Any Means Necessary
by LizaCameron
Summary: After Hook finds Emma in New York, he helps to restore her memories. They then embark on a road trip that gives them time to discover where they stand post-curse.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Any Means Necessary  
Author: Liza Cameron

Chapter: 1

Spoilers: 3.11 plus a few spoiler photos for 3.12 that can be found all over the web.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; this is for fun and no money.

Feedback: liza_cameron

Summary: After Hook finds Emma in New York, he helps to restore her memories. They then embark on a road trip that gives them time to discover where they stand post-curse.

* * *

"Here you go." Emma tossed the bags of newly purchased items onto the bed as she let them into the spacious room.

"All this?" Hook asked as he gingerly picked up a bag and emptied the contents. He grimaced as he sorted through the items. With a look of disdain he picked up a black, long-sleeved v-neck and held it against his chest. "You don't honestly expect me to wear this…" he looked her in the eye as he waved the shirt, "…this pedestrian costume."

Emma rolled her eyes and then with a sardonic note in her voice she charged, "You're absolute the last person who should be talking about wearing a costume."

He poked his hook through the remaining garments on the bed, when he nudged a pair of black pants he muttered, "But this… terribly mundane, don't you think?" Next his hook found black socks. "And simply unnecessary, I have stockings." The next item perplexed him and he picked it up in order to examine it; a plastic package with several small black garments encased within. "What's this?" Emma bit her lip to keep from smiling as he ripped the plastic with one slash.

"Careful." Emma called as she stepped forward to take it from him. "The fabric is delicate." She removed the items from the plastic and held them out to him before explaining, "Boxer briefs."

Hook furrowed his brow. "What are boxer briefs?"

"Uh…" Emma stalled, unsure how to continue. "I'm told they're the most comfortable undergarments for men."

With a quirked eyebrow he turned the black fabric over in his hands. She bought him undergarments? So many things had happened over the last few days, both good and bad, true love's kiss had failed but then she'd embarked on a mission with him. He'd been trying to figure out exactly where he stood with her, but to no avail. However, no matter the realm, surely procuring undergarments for one must signal a certain amount of intimacy, right? "You bought me undergarments?"

"Of course." Emma played it off as if it was the most natural thing in the world, even thought she was pretty sure it wasn't. The evidence being the pink tinge she could feel staining her cheeks. Did people go around buying boxer briefs for pirates that crossed realms for… people? Or was she alone in that category? "I was getting clothes for you, from my world, undergarments are a necessity." It wasn't a lie, but her heart beat a bit faster, as if it was.

He examined them closer before looking back to her with a devilish grin. "Perhaps I'm okay with your boxer briefs- they may be a convenience I can embrace." He winked at her before continuing. "The rest is so prosaic, are you trying to dress me like your father or Neal? Or at least the appalling way they dress when in Storybrooke?"

"Yes!" Emma cried her voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation. "Now you're getting it. The idea is to be… prosaic. To blend in. Right now," She gestured vehemently at him in his pirate garb. "You do not blend in. You definitely stand out."

"Why thank you, Swan." He waged a suggestive eyebrow at her as he said it.

"Not a compliment!" She sighed with frustration and then relented as her rebuff drew an almost hurt expression from him. "At least not in our current situation, I tried to find things that would not draw attention, but that you would feel comfortable in." She came to the side of the bed and picked up the items. "See, black v-necks, because, well, obviously you don't seem to allow anything to invade your neck region." As she said it she spread her hand wide and gestured with a circular motion to his perpetually exposed chest. "Long-sleeves to cover your brace, black pants, black jeans, black track pants and t-shirt to sleep in, a black leather bomber jacket, black, black, black! Because, I know, you always wear black."

He paused for a second, picking up the leather jacket which he hadn't examined before. This might not be so bad. "Yes, I see that you did try to mimic my normal raiment." He met her eye before finishing sincerely, "Thank you. I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful, I think waiting in your vehicle while you were gone got me a bit…" he cleared his throat before continuing, "…agitated. You were in there a long time."

Emma crinkled her brow at him in amusement. She'd left him in the car for 45 minutes while she shopped. The amount she'd been able to find and purchase in that time was almost miraculous. The thought that the man who'd spent centuries in Neverland waiting for his chance at revenge had run out of patience in the 45 minutes it took for her to shop for him was humorous.

Or was it? She studied him more closely and then realization dawned. "Did you think I wasn't coming back?"

He hooked the thumb of his right hand on his belt and studied the carpet. "After our conversation in New York about you taking your son and running, it crossed my mind."

The unsure note in his voice tugged at her heart. Over the last 24 hours she'd been so focused on herself, Henry and her memories that she really hadn't stopped to think about what this might be like for him. She'd thought a lot about what she needed from him and not at all about what he might need from her.

Emma might be confused as to what this was, what they were doing together, but she owed him some reassurance. "I came back, it never occurred to me not to. I wouldn't strand you in the middle of Vermont." Emma took a deep breath before continuing, finding it almost surreal that yesterday she was living a different life. "I may still be sorting things through up here." She tapped her forehead. "But now I'm in this, Hook; I've signed on for whatever adventure awaits us."

His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Good."

A small smile tugged at her lips at the utterance of that one simple word. For a moment she was transported to the last time she'd seen him before the curse and something both beautiful and painful squeezed at her heart. But she shook it off; she wasn't ready to think about the feelings that word evoked. They had a job to do and she couldn't get lost in emotion every time a new memory came to the forefront. So instead she changed the subject.

"Hey, it's been a long day; we've been in the car for hours. Why don't you try on some of these new clothes and we'll go get something to eat." As she said it, she gestured to a door in the corner that she assumed was the bathroom, lest he start disrobing right in front of her. Not that she wasn't curious what was under all that pirate gear, she was, at least a little… or a lot. Her memories might still be coming to her in pieces and parts, and she might not be sure exactly how she felt about him, but the physical attraction, that part she didn't need to remember, it was just there, evident in the spark she felt pass between them every time he was near.

"Okay. I'll head to the washroom to preserve your modesty." He got almost to the door before his eye caught something on the bed and he stopped. "But…"

"What?" Emma pasted on a smile and turned to him. Who knew getting him out of his pirate gear would be so difficult?

"It's not all black, is it?" He reached down to pull out an item from the bottom of the pile, a button-down shirt in a deep blue.

Against her will, she blushed. It was hard not to, when she remembered the argument with herself in the department store. She tried to look noncommittal. "You're right, it's not all black. There's one blue shirt."

He nodded in understanding. "Okay." He took a step towards the bathroom before once again stopping abruptly. He studied her quizzically before asking, "Why one blue shirt?"

Emma's eyes widened a bit. "Um, no reason. Why not one blue shirt?"

"Well, you said you were buying all black. So why blue?" He thought for a second and his eyes lit up. "My love of the sea, perhaps?"

"Yeah." She nodded grabbing onto the explanation he provided. "Let's go with that."

"Thank you, Swan… that's very nice of you." He paused as he eyed her shrewdly. "Or at least it would be if you weren't lying."

Emma sighed, but didn't try to belabor the lie. "How'd you know that?"

He smirked at her. "Open book, remember, luv? So why the blue?"

"It's just a color. Why are you making a federal case of it?" She tried to stop them, but she was pretty sure her eyes bugged out a little as she finished the sentence.

"I'm not sure what you mean by federal case, but I'm curious because you lied. And you turned pink. You don't do either very often."

"It's no big deal." She shrugged, before finally relenting and admitted, "Your eyes."

"My eyes?" he asked with confusion. "What do they have to say to the matter?"

"Really?" She furrowed her brow as she studied him. "When is the last time you looked in a mirror? I mean really looked in a mirror?" When he shrugged noncommittally, Emma grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards the mirror that hung over the dresser. Their eyes met in the reflective surface. "Look, you have blue eyes. Everyone knows that people with beautiful blue eyes should wear blue to bring them out. I saw the shirt. It was the same color as your eyes, so I bought it. That's it. That's all there is to it."

There was a charged moment of silence as his eyes flicked from her eyes to his own reflection and back again. "You think I have beautiful blue eyes?" He'd meant to say it with a smirk, for the words to sound suggestive, but it came out sounding more hopeful than anything else. He'd lived for 300 years. He knew that most thought he was devilishly handsome. However, now all that mattered was what she thought. He was eager for any sign that she wasn't indifferent to him.

She swallowed, hard. She hadn't meant to get into this conversation. When the memory potion had begun to work, the first thing she'd done was look into his eyes. And that's where her memories started, where they clicked into place. How could she have forgotten those eyes? She had no idea, except that as soon as she remembered them she wasn't entirely sure she'd ever really forgotten them. And now that her mind was a whir as she sorted though memories both fake and real, she realized that all she had to do was look into his eyes and she was anchored. However, she was either unwilling, or unable, to verbalize any of that.

So instead she waved her hand dismissively. "Of course I do. Everyone thinks you have beautiful blue eyes. Even Rumpelstiltskin probably thinks you have beautiful blue eyes. It's just a fact; don't let it go to your head."

Now he turned away from the mirror to face her directly. He'd had time to recover his smirk, swagger and suggestive tone, and they were all back with a vengeance. "But the material point is that you think I have beautiful eyes, feel free to look into them anytime, Swan."

While she was certain she was going to take him up on that, she also refused to rise to his bait, so once again she pointed to the bathroom. "Go change. We need to go get dinner; this will be a dry run to see if you can be inconspicuous. Then we need to get some sleep. We're back on the road so we can cross the border first thing tomorrow morning."

"Aye, captain." Hook smiled brightly as he grabbed the clothing and made for the door in the corner of the room. While he moved he spared a glance at the accommodation they'd rented for the night. Compared to what he was used to it was positively luxurious. But there was a solitary bed. She rented them only one room and a room with only one bed. Tonight was going to be interesting indeed.

**THIRTY HOURS EARLIER**

The relief he felt when he walked out of the police station and saw her standing there, waiting for him, was palpable. Almost the same feeling he'd had when she'd opened her door and he'd seen her for the first time in a year. Almost. That had been a pretty singular feeling, the best sort of feeling. He smiled widely as he walked down to her. However, as he approached she took a step back, so having learned his lesson, he slowed his pace and tried to make his approach as non-threatening as possible.

When she'd had him arrested, he was sure he'd failed his mission, miserably. He'd felt grief and loss once again gather in his chest and threaten to envelop him. It was the same pain he'd felt when he'd found himself back in the Enchanted Forest, separated from her, seemingly, forever. Then, the pain had only been eased when he'd done something, when he'd resolved to find her. And now that he had failed, it was back. Not that he had given up, but things had looked pretty bleak; especially since the officers had grumbled at him about his lack of identification or existence in the system and had said things like 'illegal alien' and 'INS' and he had no idea how he was going to get out of this predicament, let alone get back to her and convince her of the truth.

In the end, the officer hadn't been explicit about why he was being released. Only that the charges had been dropped. So when he walked out and she was there, he was certainly happy, but as she stepped back from him, he knew he needed a softer approach.

"You're out." She didn't meet his eye, choosing instead to stare at a spot directly over his shoulder.

"I assume I'm out, because of you," he countered softly.

She bit her lower lip then nodded her head a couple of times. "I, yeah, I dropped the charges."

"I'm grateful." He paused sizing her up. This both was and was not his Emma. His Emma would have put a knife to his throat until she believed he was telling the truth. This Emma didn't seem to even consider that approach, which was unfortunate. Under those circumstances he was pretty sure he could have speedily convinced her of his sincerity. But this current situation, standing on a busy New York City street, him very much out of his element, made him realized at what a disadvantage he stood. With this encounter he would finally proceed with caution and let her take the lead. She had to have had him released for a reason. "Do you mind if I ask why you dropped the charges?"

"I do," she replied sharply. However a moment later she relented and finally allowed her gaze to drift to him. Her eyes traveled the length of his body. "Look, you are clearly a weirdo; a leather-wearing, pirate-fetishist weirdo. You're talking nonsense and I swear I've never seen you before in my life."

He should have been disheartened by this speech, but something in her tone gave him hope. "But…"

"You said something. When they were leading you away and I told you to leave me alone. You said something."

"Aye. That I did."

After several moment of silence finally she continued. "You said, 'As you wish.'"

He merely nodded as he held his breath. He felt like he was in the middle of the most delicate and important negotiation of his life. "Did that… did you remember something?"

She looked to the ground and shook her head. "I don't know what this means, and I don't remember anything, but I… I felt something. An emotion. An emotion I can't connect to anything else… I can't explain it."

"Emma." He took a step forward, but she put up one hand as if to stop him, so he stalled in his tracks.

After several long seconds, she spoke. "I have questions."

He bowed to her. "And I'll answer those questions as best I can. You'll get nothing but the truth from me."

"Okay." She took a moment as she decided where to start. That's when she remembered what was in her pocket. She reached into her coat and brought out the little purple bottle. The bottle he had given her just before she'd had him arrested. "What's in this?"

He would honor his pledge to tell her nothing but the truth, but he cringed at how this was going to sound to her. "A memory potion concocted by Regina, also known as the Evil Queen. One sip and you should regain all your memories."

"You're giving me something brewed by someone called the _Evil _Queen?" Emma put the emphasis on the word 'evil.' "That's not exactly reassuring."

He ventured one step closer. "Normally, I would agree with you, but you have my word that I believe she is just as anxious for you and Henry to get your memories back and to return to help us as your parents or I am."

Emma furrowed her brow as she turned that over in her mind. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

"Because she's also Henry's mother."

Emma looked taken aback as she processed what he said. "What? How is that possible? What are we in this fairy tale of yours… a couple? Was I gay when you supposedly knew me?" She asked almost incredulously before adding (as anyone who spent hours watching sitcoms in syndication with their son would) "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

For the first time since Emma took a step back from him as he walked down the steps, Hook smiled, widely. "No, it's not like that." He took a deep breath, rethinking his honesty pledge for a split second, but only for a split second. He had no choice; the Emma he knew would accept nothing less than the unvarnished truth. "Emma, in reality, you didn't keep Henry. You gave him up for adoption and Regina adopted him. That's why you both lay claim to being his mother."

Emma visible recoiled at this. "I did not give my son up for adoption!"

He continued on as gently as he could, as gently as he knew how. "I'm sorry, but you did. As I understand it, you were in jail, Neal had left you, and you felt that you had very few options. You wanted to give him his best chance. So you gave him up for adoption."

"How do you know all of that? About jail? And how do you know about Neal?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Why are you telling me all of this? Why would I want to go to a place where I gave my son up for adoption? I admit I thought about it, but I didn't do it! Life without him… what you're suggesting is unthinkable! We're happy. He's happy. If I believed any of this, which I don't," however she sounded less convinced of this with every passing second. "Why would I go back to a place where I gave up my son? He's my whole world!"

This was it, his best opportunity. He took a chance and gently gripped her shoulders; finally she looked up at him. Their eyes met and the intensity in his threatened to steel her breath away. Whoever this man was, he believed what he was saying with his whole heart. That certainly gave him credence, however just because he believed it didn't mean it was true.

Hook took a deep breath, he felt as if he was taking a dive off the tallest point of his ship. He searched her eyes as he began. "Because the Emma Swan I know would not want to live a make believe life with make believe memories. She would want what was real, what was true. She'd want real moments, good and bad. Even if there was pain… but, Emma, it's not all pain, I promise you. When your memories were taken, you had Henry. You're not losing him by regaining your memories. But that's not all you had. You also had your parents. You had friends. You had Neal. You had a place where you belonged… and you had me." By the time he'd come to reference himself in the speech, his voice was low and had taken on a husky quality.

Emma listened and her mind began turning the scenario. What if what he said was true? It was ridiculous, but if it was true, if it was possible, then someone owed her an explanation. The pain, the abandonment she'd felt her entirely life, it was almost too much.

"If I had all these people, why was I found abandoned on the side of the road!?" Emma nearly yelled. "If I had parents, where were they? Why did they allow that to happen? And Neal? He sent me to jail! Why did he do that? Where was he when I was alone and pregnant with his child? And who the hell are you to me?" Emma blinked back the tears that were threatening behind her eyes. But they didn't fall, just as they hadn't when she'd said goodbye to her life a year earlier. The Emma he knew, tough as nails, was still in there.

With his right hand, he reached over and gently took the purple bottle from her hand. In a practiced gesture he pulled the stopper out with his teeth before catching it in his palm. Offering the vial to her, he murmured, "One way to find out."

Cautiously she took the bottle. What was she doing? This was ridiculous. But she didn't stop. This had to end one way or another. "This is crazy. What you're saying is crazy. But to put an end to it, I'll take this." She gestured to the bottle in her hand. "But when nothing happens, you stop talking to me about giving up Henry and these mythical, wonderful parents who still ended up abandoning me, okay?"

He nodded, hoping with everything that was sacred that Regina had brewed a successful memory potion.

Her eyes never leaving his, she tilted the bottle to her lips. The effect was immediate, but it took her several moments to process the flashes and feelings. It was as if the world was set to rights, and suddenly all her memories were intact, but she couldn't access them all at once. There were too many, they contained too much information. To ground herself, she focused on Hook's face. On his eyes. Of course, Hook, with the beautiful blue eyes- who could ever forget those eyes- and the pirate swagger and his lust for revenge. Captain Hook. THE Captain Hook. Her ally. Her enemy. Then her ally again. Then her friend. Then the kiss. Hook. Emma's eyes grew wide as recognition took hold of her, she whispered, "Hook."

That was all he needed to crush her to him. "Emma," he murmured as he wrapped his left arm around her back and brought his right hand up to cradle her neck. He squeezed her to him as he closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. When it came to singular moments, this was definitely one. Only hours ago he'd felt a deep, dark despair begin to creep in on him. And now here she was, remembering him, in his embrace. He'd never been so happy to hold someone in his arms in his entire life. Relief coursed through him, he hadn't failed after all. He'd found her. And she was okay.

She allowed him to hold her for several long moments as she continued processing the situation. There was no doubt in her mind of who this man was and that it felt good to be in his arms. In fact it felt very good. The rest was a jumble. She felt like a release valve had been lifted on pressure she didn't even know existed- as if the lies of her life had been gathered in a bubble around her, just waiting to burst, and now they had. Many of them had been good lies, good falsehoods, but they were falsehoods nonetheless. This was real. He was real. But now, as her mind tried to sort what was real and what was not, she needed answers more than ever.

"Hook." She pushed back on him slightly, but he didn't release her. "Hook!" She repeated, but slightly louder and she pushed with more force. This time his arms lessened their grip on her and he leaned back slightly to see her face. "I have a lot of questions."

He chuckled lightly at the understatement. "I'm sure you do, luv."

Emma allowed herself a moment, a moment to try and think. What was to be done? Finally, she tugged on his arm. "We should get off the street. Let's go back to my place."

He nodded in agreement. "Lead the way."

She began to walk and he followed behind her. They'd been walking in silence for about a minute, when it hit her. He'd found her. Hook had been sent to the Enchanted Forest with everyone else when the curse struck. That meant he'd found a way to cross back. Not an easy task. Actually, it was an almost impossible task. Without warning she stopped and turned to face him. He almost ran smack into her, only avoiding a collision at the last second.

"What's wrong, Emma?" His voice held concern.

They were only inches apart and she felt his proximity acutely. She took a moment and searched his face, trying to commit it to memory all over again. Could you miss something, you couldn't remember? Now that she remembered, she knew the answer was yes. The feeling she'd had in the park, and really since he'd shown up on her doorstep. It was longing. She'd missed him even though she'd had no recollection of him. "You found me. How?"

That brought a slight smile to his lips. There were many things he wanted her to know, he wanted her to know how he had began looking for a way back to her almost as soon as they parted. How he had kept his promise to think of her every day. How he had insisted it be him and how he brooked no opposition. The dangers he'd faced and the means he'd employed to prevail. More than anything he wanted to gather her in his arms once again and tell her he would have found her or died trying, but he knew it would be wise to continue easing her into her new reality. There were still shocks to come.

So instead he merely looked her in the eye as he said, "Any means necessary."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Once they entered Emma's loft, she'd put the kettle on as if she was entertaining any ordinary guest in the middle of the afternoon. However, the questions she started firing at him almost immediately were anything but ordinary, and, for that matter, so was her guest.

"How long had it been? How had he gotten there? Had he crossed realms? What did he mean her family was in trouble? Were they okay? Where were David, Mary Margaret, Regina and Neal? What about everyone else? Had their memories stayed intact? Who was threatening them? Was it Pan? Was Pan's curse lifted? What was their next move?"

Hook simply stared at her, his own mind whirring. Now that he had her remembering and maybe, sort of trusting him, he wasn't sure where to begin. "Swan, it would take some time to explain everything to you. I think it would be more productive if I enlightened you on the way."

"On the way to where?" Emma asked, apprehension knotting her stomach. Even as the memories started to gel and take up residence in her mind, the thought of what all this might mean for the life she and Henry had built was not easy to accept.

"Storybrooke," he replied simply.

"But Storybrooke doesn't exist anymore. The curse destroyed it. Pan's curse," she added for emphasis.

He took a deep breath, wishing he had better, more certain, answers. But he wasn't certain. "I believe it's been restored."

"Restored?"

"Yes, that's what was happening when I left to find you. A new evil had descended upon the Enchanted Forest, a powerful witch. When I left, Regina and your parents were sure this witch was working on a curse to send everyone back to Storybrooke and they were very fearful that she was going to be successful and that the consequences of that curse would be grave."

"But you're not sure."

"No, I'm not sure," he admitted candidly. "I wish I had more conclusive answers for you."

"So you want me to get my son out of school and drive the three of us six plus hours to a place that might not exist and if it does is cursed in some godforsaken way?"

Hook grimaced and nodded. He knew how unappealing it sounded. "That…is correct."

"Why, again, do you think I'm going to do this?"

He shrugged. "Because you're the savior." And then he added quietly, "And you're you. Emma Swan. And Emma Swan doesn't sit back when the people she loves are in danger and desperately need her."

Emma closed her eyes for a moment as the truth of that statement sunk in. He was right. She was Emma Swan, and she would never let her loved ones suffer. "You're good."

He smirked at her before replying, "I know. Now pack a bag." He gestured to the plaid pants she was wearing. "But, if you don't mind, rethink the plaid. It's just not you."

Emma looked down and grimaced. He was right. Before the curse she never would have been caught dead in such a thing.

When Henry came home from school he took in stride the presence of a leather-clad pirate in his kitchen. As he sat on a stool looking between the pirate and his mother, Emma paced, trying to find the words to explain the situation. After several false starts, Hook looked at the boy and decided on the same honesty that had worked on Emma. "Henry, I've come to bring you and your mother back to your family. You both are the victim of a curse which stole your memories. If you drink this," he picked up the bottle from the counter. "They will be restored, as your mother's have been. I must warn you though, that the life you led before, the life you've forgotten was rather… extraordinary. So it's best you stay seated when you take it."

Emma stared at Hook, mouth agape and jaw slack. But all she could find to say was, "You didn't warn me that I should sit down."

"I guess I was too busy being arrested by your constable," he shot back, but he rewarded her with a wicked grin after he said it.

Henry once again looked between his mother and the pirate and then shrugged. "I've always known that something wasn't quite right." Without any further discussion, he took the potion.

Hook turned his eyes from Henry to look at Emma. "See, its called trust."

Emma spared just one second to glare at Hook, before she rushed to her son's side. "Henry, are you alright?"

The stunned expression he wore, worried his mother, but a second later he was practically bursting. "I knew it! You're Captain Hook! And I've been on the Jolly Roger."

"Aye, indeed you have." Hook grinned back at him.

"You gave me your Captain's Quarters and then Peter Pan…" At that, Henry's voice faltered.

This was Emma's biggest fear, which is why she had struggled with the words to prepare him for the memories. But then Hook had stepped in and put it all so bluntly. If she felt as if she was going to explode with all the new information, what must her young son be feeling? Emma hugged him to her. "Shhh, it's okay."

Henry looked up at her. "I know, Mom, I'm okay." Then he locked his gaze on Hook. "You're taking us back?"

"Aye, lad, if you'll come."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Henry hoped off the stool and made a beeline to his bedroom to pack.

Emma watched him go with an expression that teetered between shock and relief.

"Well, isn't he resilient?" She heard Hook say as he came up beside her.

"If I'm putting him in danger by taking him back to that place…" Emma shook her head as a myriad of scenarios played out in her head. She didn't have the facts yet, but she remembered enough to imagine what could be in store for them.

Hook pulled no punches. "You are. There's no question about it. We're all headed into danger."

Emma swiftly shook her head. He was crazy. This was crazy. "Then I can't. I can't go. Henry has to come first. They…" It was too new, too ripe, yet, to put names to 'they.' "They will understand that."

With hook and hand, he gripped her shoulders almost desperately. "Do you think I relish putting you in danger? I assure you, I do not. And I would do anything to prevent it. Including letting you go." Emma's mind reeled at his words, at the intensity in his voice and in his expression. She also acutely felt his nearness, his breath on her cheek, the scent of leather. It made it hard to concentrate, but his words grabbed her attention.

"However, who's to say that the danger wouldn't follow you here? Or anywhere? You're the savior, Emma. When the witch figures that out, figures out that your mere existence is a threat to her, then it won't matter where you are. She'll come for you. Wouldn't you rather take the offensive? In a place where you have friends and family beside you? Friends and family who can help protect Henry? We must all fight, together, if we are to have any chance at prevailing. You taught me that."

Emma turned away from him, out of his grip. She couldn't think properly when he was in such close proximity to her, when his voice was fraught with emotion, when it felt as if his blue eyes were drilling through hers. This was unreal. Last week her biggest problem was deciding whether or not to okay an overnight field trip to Boston for Henry's history class. Now she was confronted with what felt like a life or death decision. She walked around the kitchen island once and then nodded at him. "Okay, we'll go. But I warn you, if at anytime I think it's in my kid's best interest to take him and run, that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Hook betrayed a slight grimace, before saying, "I'd expect nothing less."

Emma readied the apartment as if she was going on vacation; setting the timer on the thermostat, leaving a message for her neighbor asking if she would water the plants, and in general acting like she would be coming back to this place. Hook was pretty sure she wouldn't be, but he said nothing. Allowing her to do what she needed to do in order to deal with the extraordinary situation that confronted them.

Henry on the other hand seemed to be under no such allusion. While his mother was in her bedroom pulling her duffle bag out of the closet he approached the pirate. "We're not coming back are we?"

Hook took a deep breath before answering. "I don't know, lad." Henry's stare grew pointed and Hook realized he couldn't fool him. "I really don't know. It's ultimately up to you and your mum. But if I had to guess, the answer is no. At least not permanently, perhaps once things have settled, you'll be back for your things."

Henry accepted this, before saying matter-of-factly, "Mom thinks were coming back."

"Aye and perhaps you will. It's not for me to say." Hook eyed him appraisingly. "You seem to be accepting all of this with equanimity; I know it must be disconcerting."

"It's easier for me. Storybrooke is my home, has always been my home. That's not the case for my mom."

Hook considered that, before agreeing, "Very astute."

It was Henry's turn to study Hook. "You like my mom."

Hook was taken aback by that. Of course it was an understatement, but he still hadn't expected it from the boy. "Why do you say that, lad?"

"Because you're here… and you used to be a villain and I don't think you are anymore. That's for her, isn't it?"

Hook thought about that. He'd been a selfish man, caught up so much in his own anger, misery and thirst for revenge that he'd cared for little else. Emma had been like a light showing him the way out of a very dark tunnel. But he didn't say that to the boy.

"As it turns out I was never very good at being a villain. The good guys always won. Your mum gave me a chance to join the good guys, and for once I was smart enough to take it. So I do like Emma, but I'm here for both of you and on behalf of a lot of people who love _you_ very much. Regina, in particular, is quite anxious to see you."

A wide grin spread over Henry's face and Hook sighed with relief that he had apparently said the right thing. And he had, because Henry immediately headed back to his bedroom to continue packing what few items he'd be taking with him.

In the end, they decided to wait until early the next morning to set out. It was already quite late in the day and it was at least six hours to Storybrooke, without traffic. Emma had declared that she had no desire to arrive to God knew what had become of Storybrooke in the middle of the night. As a pirate, Hook was used to and sometimes preferred traveling by the cover of night. However, in this case he agreed with Emma that little would be gained by it. So they waited.

With Henry present they discussed little more. He didn't want to give Emma any particulars in front of the boy and the truth was he knew very little more than what he'd already told them. Emma had sent for Chinese food and they'd retired early. Emma and Henry in their respective beds and Hook on the couch, sleep eluding each of them as they all wondered what adventure and what peril the next day would bring.

The drive to Storybrooke was as uneventful a start to a grand adventure as one could imagine. Usually, one would think an adventure would start with fanfare, or excitement or an obstacle or two to overcome, but not this journey. They'd left New York by 6am, thereby missing some of the worst traffic. The little yellow bug, ran admirably, and despite its age allowed them to travel at about 10 miles per hour over the speed limit most of the way. Henry peppered Hook with questions and Hook told them of what had transpired when they had all found themselves back in the Enchanted Forest.

Henry was gleefully listening, but Emma was sure it was a sanitized version for her son. She felt like she wasn't gleaning any real information from what he said. He talked of tents and horses, of hunting and fishing, of the castle, but not much else. What exactly had transpired during the last year?

.***

At half past noon they pulled up to the infamous, at least to Storybrooke residents, town line. Emma pulled the car to the side of the road.

"What are you doing, Mom? Let's go!" Henry called anxiously from the backseat.

"Just catching my breath, kid." She turned to Hook. "You sure about this? You sure of what we're going to find?"

It was not time to start lying to her now. He reached across his body from the passenger seat and with his right hand gripped the driver's side window ledge so he could peer out her window. She sat flush back against her seat, her heart beating slightly faster as he invaded her space. "I'm not sure of anything and I have no idea what we're going to find. But…" He sat back and now looked out the windshield and lastly his passenger window, his eyes seemingly searching every bit of the landscape around the town line. At last he gave the go ahead. "I see nothing to lead me to believe we shouldn't enter."

"Great." She turned back to stare at the road ahead. "Any idea where we should start?"

In unison, Hook said, "Regina's" and Henry said, "Mom's."

Emma turned the key in the ignition. "Well that settles that, we'll go to Regina's."

Trepidation curled in Emma's stomach as they rolled through town. Storybrooke was there, but they didn't see anyone. Not a soul. At Hook's request they drove by the docks on their way to Regina's. He sighed with relief when the Jolly Roger came into view.

Emma glanced over to him. "Do you want me to stop?"

He shook his head. "It's not necessary, I'm... I wanted to see if she was here."

"So… you didn't sail here from the Enchanted Forrest?" Emma quizzed, her curiosity peaked.

His eyes didn't stray from his ship. "No, I didn't sail. I haven't seen her in some time."

Emma stopped herself from asking more questions, questions that she didn't necessarily want answered in front of her son. Instead she turned the car and headed towards their destination. Keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of life. She saw none and it was unsettling.

By the time they'd pulled up to Regina's house, the trepidation had twisted into fear. "I don't know about this, guys. Something doesn't feel right. Where is everyone?"

Henry was unperturbed. "The town is back, Mom. That must mean something. If the town is here, mom must be here."

Hook nodded his agreement. "Yes, we've come this far, we might as well at least have a look inside." He opened the passenger door to the bug and stepped onto the street.

At that moment, Regina burst out the front door of the house. "Henry!" she called as he jumped out of the car and ran towards her. As much as it sent a pang to Emma's heart to see her son run to another woman and call her, 'mom,' the fear that had gripped her did release its hold at the appearance of the other woman.

Regina gathered Henry into her arms for a hug, but then promptly released him and motioned everyone towards the house. "Quickly everyone, inside, please."

Once inside, Regina pulled her son in for another hug. Over his shoulder she surveyed his traveling companions. "I must say, Hook, you impress me. I wasn't sure you would succeed."

He smirked at her. "Thank you for not expressing that sentiment before I left."

Ignoring his sarcasm, she replied sincerely. "You're welcome. My gift to you. On top of the memory potion, of course." She then turned her laser-sharp gaze to Emma. "You look well, like someone who's been living with some very good memories."

But Emma wasn't having it. "Cut it out, Regina. What the hell is going on?"

Regina had no time to respond because at that moment three more people entered the room.

"Henry!" At that the boy turned and saw his father in the entrance to the room. His arms open wide. Henry ran and leapt at Neal. Emma watched the scene unfold as memories of Neal in Storybrooke came to the forefront of her mind. In the day since she'd drank the potion, she realized she hadn't spent much time trying to access her memories of him. Therefore she hadn't spent any time trying to process how she thought or felt about him. There had been too much else to think about. For the moment she pushed the revelation aside, pushed aside what it might mean that he hadn't been a priority.

Once Neal released Henry from his grip, Belle, who had been standing next to them, smiled down at Henry before pulling him into her arms. "We've been waiting for you, young man."

Neal crossed the room and wrapped Emma in a bear hug. Almost involuntarily her arms snaked around his neck and he lifted her and spun her around once. "Man, is it good to see you," he uttered as he set her down.

Hook was watching this display with a disdainful look. However, that didn't last because as soon as Neal was done with Emma, he found himself unexpectedly pulled into a quick embrace. Neal gave him one slap on the back before releasing him and saying, "You did it, man, thank you."

Emma furrowed her brow watching the men who she'd once scolded for their petty squabbling, actually hug each other. "Okay, I'm getting the feeling that you're really glad to see us."

"We are," Belle replied as she approached Emma and gave her a quick squeeze. When Belle turned to Hook, she held out her hand with a small, but sincere, smile. "A deal's a deal. All is forgiven."

He bowed, took her proffered hand, and kissed it. "Milady, thank you."

As Hook straightened, Emma leaned over to him and whispered curiously. "Now what is that about?"

He didn't answer, but just cocked a suggestive eyebrow at her. At the glare Emma shot him, he relented sheepishly. "A long story, I'll tell you later."

Emma shook her head trying to find the memories rattling around in her mind to explain everything that was happening. Her eyes lit on the only person in the room she didn't recognize.

"I'm sorry. Have we met? Are you someone I should remember?"

The man stepped forward and Regina went to his side. "No, I don't think you've met. This is Robin. He's…uh, a friend. We met up with him in the Enchanted Forrest and he's been helping us with our little problem."

"Robin?" Emma questioned before realization dawned. "As in Robin Hood? This just gets better and better, now we need Snow White and Prince Charming. Where are Mary Margaret and David?"

Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask. Everyone went silent.

Regina was the one who quickly stepped into the breach, she looked over at Henry. "Henry, are you hungry? It's lunch time. Belle, would you mind taking Henry into the kitchen to see what you can find to eat."

"Sure!" Belle grabbed his hand and started leading him towards the kitchen. "What do you feel like?"

Emma waited until Henry was out of earshot before turning back to Regina. "I will repeat what I said when I first arrived, Regina, what in the hell is going on? Where are Mary Margaret and David?"

Regina motioned to the adjacent living room. "Please sit down."

Hook walked into the room and then stood by the sofa, waiting for Emma to take her seat first. Once she sat, he took the seat right next to her. Emma was grateful for his proximity. She couldn't entirely explain it, but with all this craziness, he was the only person, besides Henry, whom she felt she could trust. A lot of things had changed in a day.

Regina and Neal took chairs opposite the couch while Robin came to stand behind Regina.

"What's happening is that Storybrooke has, obviously, been cursed back into existence. Apparently the intention of the Wicked Witch of the West was to recreated Storybrooke, send us all here, but confine us to a hellish landscape of swarming bees, prowling wolves, predatory crows and winged monkeys. That hasn't happened, at least not entirely; because I was able to enact several counter curses. That's not to say, it's entirely safe out there, it's not. Occasionally you will happen upon one of the aforementioned. For that reason I encourage most people to stay in when they can, but it's not the hellish landscape she envisioned. Belle, Neal and Robin are staying here with me so we can work on ways to defeat her."

"Wicked Witch of the West? Winged Monkeys? It's the Wizard of Oz." Emma said as much to herself as anyone else. She looked to Regina and asked, "Have you tried water?"

Regina scowled at her. "What do you mean?"

Emma shrugged. "In the movie she's deathly afraid of water. I'm just saying… maybe it's true."

"I'll keep that in mind." And Regina actually sounded as if she would.

"So, Mary Margaret and David?" Emma prodded once again.

"Yes, your parents. Unfortunately, we think because of your mother's state she was not transported to Storybrooke along with the rest of us."

Emma's brows knit together reflexively. "What's her state?"

"She's pregnant." Regina replied without ceremony.

Emma's eyes went wide. "She's pregnant? With…"

"A baby. Yes, what else would she be pregnant with?" Regina asked mockingly. "She's pregnant with a bouncing little sister or brother for you."

Emma looked to Hook for confirmation. He nodded indicating that what Regina said was true. She nudged his side as she whispered, "You could have told me."

"There are a lot of things I haven't yet had a chance to tell you," Hook replied back.

Emma once again addressed Regina. "And because she's pregnant she didn't make the journey here?"

Regina sat forward in her chair and when she spoke her voice was laced with the sarcasm that Emma now remembered it always held. "It wasn't a journey, we weren't going on holiday. That shrew sent a thick fog of emerald smoke and, poof, we were here."

"But she wasn't? So Mary Margaret's still in the Enchanted Forrest?" Emma crossed her arms over her chest as if trying to protect herself from this news.

Regina shrugged noncommittally.

Neal interjected at this and was a bit more reassuring. "Emma, we have every reason to believe she's fine and at the Summer Palace in the Enchanted Forest where she was when we were brought here."

"And David?"

Regina took up the story once more. "He was here. But you know how absolutely nauseating your father is when it comes to your mother. There was no talking him out of it."

"Talking him out of what?" Emma once again felt fear start to grip her.

"All his blather of, 'I will find her, we always find each other.' Yeech." Regina made a disdainful face.

"Regina, tell me where David is." Emma spoke the words through gritted teeth.

Neal once again spoke. "There's a witch, some call her the Good Witch of the North."

"Okay." Emma motioned with her hand for him to continue his story.

"We found information about her in my father's shop and were able to pinpoint a location, a location in Canada. She's no friend of the Wicked Witch so David thought if he could find her she would know of a way that we could defeat the Wicked Witch and he could get back to your mother."

"I've had dealings with this woman in the past," Regina interrupted.

"Of course you have." Emma rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, she's an old enemy of yours?"

"Quite the contrary. She's a kindly old lady, and it's true, she is no friend of the Wicked Witch. She got fed up with things years ago and settled in this realm."

"So what happened with David?"

"We don't know. He left for Montreal five days ago and hasn't returned."

Emma let this roll around in her mind. "Wait, how'd he leave Storybrooke without losing his memory? Or is that not a part of the curse anymore?"

"It is. But I gave him a memory potion, not unlike the one I gave Hook to give to you. It allowed him to keep his memories."

"Okay, that's good; at least he knows who he is."

Regina shook her head. "No, the potion only lasts three, maybe four days. It's been five."

"So what you're telling me is that David is somewhere in another country, with no memory of who he is, and no idea how to get back?"

Regina nodded. "I'm actually sorry to say it, but yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Do you have any idea why he wouldn't have returned on time, before the potion wore off?"

"Just one. The Good Witch has a good soul, but…"

"But what?"

"She's a bit lonely and she does like handsome men."

"You think she would have… kept him there?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Possibly," Regina nodded in agreement.

Emma stood and started pacing around the room. "Well then, I have to go, I have to go get him."

Regina stood. "Yes, now that you're here, that's what I think, too. Unlike the rest of us, you're in no danger of losing your memories if you leave."

Neal jumped up from his perch on the bench. "I won't lose my memories either. Emma, I'll go with you."

At that Emma stared dumbly at him, not sure what to say. But Hook quickly interjected. "I also won't lose my memories and am free to accompany Emma."

Unconsciously, Emma reached over and put her hand on Hook's arm. She suddenly couldn't imagine embarking on this mission without him.

"Yes," Neal challenged, "But I have a U.S. Passport to get across the border, do you?"

At that Hook deflated. "No, I have no such documentation." He turned to Emma, sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I, I didn't want our journey together to end here."

Emma looked up into his eyes and melted a bit at the intensity there. She squeezed his arm in reassurance. "I know."

Regina had watched the back and forth between the men in enjoyment. Even though they were all under a curse didn't mean she couldn't take pleasure in the built-in entertainment. Well she enjoyed it right up until it looked like Hook and Emma might start to get mawkish. They were already looking at each other as if they were about to be parted by another lifelong curse.

"Ugh. Stop already." She turned to address Hook. "Don't worry, lover boy, I can magic you up a passport to get you across the border. I did it for David. And you," she pointed to Neal. "We don't know what will happen to your memories if you cross the line. I'm still not certain if that's part of the new curse or a remnant of the first."

With that Emma sighed inwardly with relief. She wouldn't have wanted to explain it to anyone but she also wasn't ready to give up Hook's presence as she navigated this new reality.

Regina looked to Emma. "I can get you the passport, as well as some cash. Use some of it to buy him something a little less swash-buckling to walk around in." She made a length-wise motion at Hook and his pirate gear. "The passport will be good, but you'll want to raise as little suspicion as possible when you cross the border." Now she turned to face the pirate himself. "And you… be careful. You're not my cup of tea, but I know some think you're handsome, wouldn't want David's fate to befall you."

At that Emma felt a smile coming on, but then something else occurred to her and her face froze. "What about Henry?"

Regina shrugged nonchalantly. "He'll stay here with me."

"I don't think so," Emma ground out. "Without me, in a town that might have flying monkeys that attack? No."

"Last time I checked, I had legal custody of him." Regina shot back.

"In what realm? Under what law? This whole damn thing is a farce!" Emma returned just as quickly.

At that, Robin of all people intervened and stepped in between them. "Ladies, ladies." He turned towards Emma. "I realize that you don't know me, but I assure you we've made this house a fortress. It's as safe as possible. In fact it's probably much safer than a witch's compound that David has failed to return from."

Now it was Neal's turn to step up. "Emma, if it makes you feel better, you go with the…" he motioned to Hook, "…the pirate and I'll stay here with Henry. He'll be with both Regina and me. Not to mention Belle and Robin in this house. Besides," Neal continued thoughtfully, "he might be helpful. We're close to finding my father. We think his physical self is linked with an object here in Storybrooke. Maybe Henry will be the one to figure it out. He certainly couldn't do worse than we have."

With that it was decided. Henry would stay while Hook and Emma embarked on the rescue mission to find David.

Emma squeezed Henry for all he was worth. As she pulled back she met his eye. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

He smiled at her. "Yes, Mom, I'm sure. You're just going to be a couple of days, right? I'll be fine here while you are on Operation Save Grandpa. Besides, I want to figure out what's going on. Belle is going to let me look through some old texts that they think have clues to Mr. Gold's whereabouts."

Emma felt a sudden stab of apprehension as memories of Neverland swirled in her mind. "Okay, you can help, but if you find something you tell Regina or Neal you don't try and find him by yourself."

Henry looked solemn, but sincere. "I won't, mom."

Emma would have to be satisfied with that. "And remember, it's dangerous out of doors. Promise me you won't venture out alone and you'll do whatever Regina tells you to."

"I promise."

"I love you," Emma called as she watched Henry leave the kitchen. "Love you, too," he called back as he headed to the living room window. Hook had gone outside with Robin to get Henry's things out of the car, and Henry wanted to make sure they didn't forget anything.

Emma herself had started for the kitchen door when Neal appeared, blocking her way. "Hey." His voice was tentative.

"Hey," she replied before giving him a tight smile. "Watch out for our boy."

"I will. Don't worry about us. I'm more worried about you."

"Me?" Emma asked with a slightly defensive edge to her voice.

"Yeah, are you sure you're okay going alone with Hook? I mean he's not the most trustworthy…"

Emma raised her hand in order to interrupt. "Trust me, there may be reasons to worry about me on this trip, but they have everything to do with some batty old witch who I'm terrified has turned a memory-less David into her cabana boy and have nothing to do with Hook."

"That reminds me." Neal handed her a vial similar to the one Hook had given to her. "For David. If he drinks it, he should regain his memories just long enough to get back here."

She took the vial and put it in her pocket. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, thank Belle. She's gotten pretty good at potion making, something she picked up from my father. She brews, Regina enchants." He leaned closer to her. "I hope you find him, Emma."

"I appreciate that."

At that Emma started to make her way past him, but he grabbed her arm. "Wait, Emma."

She looked up at him expectantly. Hoping her face didn't show the apprehension she felt at what she was afraid he might say. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry I'm not going with you. I'm also sorry we won't have a chance to talk before you leave."

Emma swallowed convulsively; her throat was suddenly dry, so much so that she reached for a glass of water from the kitchen counter. She took a long sip. She knew she was playing for time, trying to delay this discussion. But that was ridiculous, this was Neal and she, at least, owed him the conversation. She'd been honest, even brutally honest, with him in the past, but he hadn't wanted to believe it was hopeless and for whatever reason back then she hadn't been ready to force the issue. Preferring, if left to her own devices, to delay and avoid rather than confront. But now it was time.

"Neal." She sat down the water and then gently reached over to grip his wrist. With a fortifying deep breath she looked up into his eyes, willing him to see she was in earnest. "Earlier, when I saw you, I remembered that we were supposed to have lunch that last day in Storybrooke."

"I remember that you stood me up." His reply was quiet.

"I know. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

He smiled at her. "That's okay. When you get back, we'll have time. We can have that lunch then."

"No." She shook her head sadly at him. "I mean, sure, we can have lunch, but not in the way I think you mean."

"Oh…" Neal's eyes went wide as realization settled over him. He motioned to the front of the house with a nod of his head. "Is it because of him?"

"What?" Emma knit her brows in momentary confusion until she realized he was referencing Hook. She immediately began shaking head. "Oh, no, no, of course not."

"Because you know I wanted to be the one to come and find you."

He wanted to do something, but he didn't actually do it. Emma winced slightly, that was the essence of their story together. But she let it go because even if he had been the one to come and find her, it wouldn't have changed how she felt. She'd known the truth her heart held a year ago in the Echo Cave and she knew it now. She gave him a sincere smile. "I know you did. I believe that."

She exhaled sharply, searching for the right words to make him understand. "Look, to be honest, I don't know what that is." She gestured towards the front of the house, as he had when he'd referenced Hook. "Other than a guy willing to use any means necessary for me and that's what I need right now if I'm going to get David back."

Emma shifted her gaze back up to Neal and smiled at him sadly. "But I do know what this is." She gestured to the space between them. "I'm sorry, Neal, I wish I could have told you sooner. When we were in Neverland, I meant everything I said. I do still love you and, to be honest, at the time I did wish you were dead. But now..." She reached up and pressed her palm to his cheek. "I'm so very happy you're alive. Believe that. But we're not going to be together. You are very important to me, but that ship has sailed for us. I'm sorry."

Neal was silent for a long moment as he processed what she'd said. If he was honest with himself, he had known that this was going to be the outcome. But he'd still held on to a tiny bit of hope that she would change her mind. That hope was now gone. Finally, he took a deep breath and gave her a small smile. "You're even using sea metaphors. Are you sure you're not with the pirate?"

"Shut up." But Emma smiled at him as she said it. She grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the living room. "Come on, I've got to get on the road."

As Emma left the house, she saw that Hook was already in the car waiting for her. As everyone else watched from the living room window, Regina followed her outside. Emma stopped and looked her former nemesis squarely in the face. "Whatever you do, you keep him safe. That's job number one. Everything else is secondary."

Regina wanted to scoff at her, wanted to show her disdain for her instruction on how to mother her own son. But she couldn't. Not under the circumstances. Instead she offered a sincere promise. "I will."

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat and headed for the little yellow bug. Suddenly something occurred to her and she stopped and turned back to the other woman. "Hey."

"What?" Regina had started towards the house, but now she looked back at Emma expectantly.

"Why did almost everything in my wardrobe consist of plaid?"

Regina bit her lip as if to keep from laughing.

"Regina, what did you do?" Emma demanded.

The other woman looked at her seriously, but there was light in her eyes. "You had my son, and I gave you the best life I could drum up under the circumstances. But I am still me; you can't expect me not to have a little fun."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

They'd ended up back on the road only an hour or so after they'd arrived in Storybrooke. On the drive out of town, they noticed things they hadn't upon arrival. Hook pointed out a volery of crows perched on the clock tower, their dark outlines almost glowing against the stark gray sky. Knowing what they now knew, the large black birds took on a menacing aspect and Emma felt an involuntary shiver as she peered up at them. A bit later, both occupants of the car jumped when several fat insects—which upon closer inspection were yellow and black—hit the windshield just before they crossed the town line.

Once they'd crossed out of Storybrooke, Emma let out her pent-up breath with a whoosh. Hook glanced over at her. "You okay, luv?"

"Yeah… that was creepy, wasn't it?" She quickly looked over at him to gage his reaction to what they'd just seen in Storybrooke.

He met her eye and nodded in agreement before she turned back to the road. Reading her mind, he deduced, "You're still worried about leaving Henry there."

"Yes , I am," she replied quickly and then sighed, "I have memories… memories that still seem real, where this will be the longest I've ever been away from him."

Hook looked over at her sympathetically. "We shouldn't be gone long." However, a moment later he shrewdly observed, "But being parted from him, that's not really what has you concerned, is it? Are you thinking of Neverland? Are you afraid he will attempt another heroic, but ill-fated endeavor and you won't be there to stop him?"

Emma was silent for several beats as she thought that over, conjuring the harrowing memories of Skull Rock to the forefront of her mind. Finally, she admitted, "Yes, I can't help it. But I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. I really do think he's learned his lesson about trying to be a hero."

"Well then, he should be perfectly safe. I think you can refine complete confidence in Regina's desire to keep him out of harm's way."

Emma felt the ball of tension that had taken up residence in her abdomen release at the truth of this statement. "Yes, I wouldn't trust her with my life, or your life, but I would trust her with Henry's."

Hook chuckled lightly at that, feeling pleased she would equate his safety with her own. "I do believe your son affords us all protection against her darker… shall we say, tendencies. Besides he has two parents plus Belle keeping an eye on him and Robin Hood protecting him, I agree with the archer that he's far safer there than with us."

"Yes," Emma sighed with relief. "Besides, I know Henry would want me to focus on Operation Save Grandpa. I don't think he'd do anything that would require me to return to Storybrooke before the mission is complete," Emma said once again revealing that her underlying fear was more tied to what Henry might do, not what might be done to him.

They were both silent for a moment. Deciding to lighten the mood, Hook looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Operation Save Grandpa?"

"That's the name Henry gave," Emma took her hand off the wheel and swirled it in the air between them "…to whatever it is we're doing."

"Well, if Henry went to the trouble of naming this operation, we should probably give it it's proper due and put together a plan."

xxxxxxxx

Even though the drive was the first time Hook and Emma had been alone in a full day, their conversation the rest of the way was mostly consumed by planning, navigation and discussion about where it would be best to cross the border into Canada. Emma had purchased a big foldable map at a gas station, but Hook had actually caught on to the GPS on Emma's phone once she'd advised him to think of it as a magical nautical chart. Ultimately they'd decided to traverse the White Mountains across New Hampshire and into Vermont and then stay near the border that night.

By early evening they'd arrived in a small town with maybe four or five thousand people living in it. Thankfully, there had been a shopping mall off the highway so she'd been able to accomplish at least one of her objectives. But the town wasn't exactly teeming with hotels, so they'd settled for a quaint inn. Which wouldn't necessarily be a problem, except, as Emma now looked around the room she realized that this could be a mistake. The room was nice; really nice, some would describe it as romantic. It was clean and spacious with light walls and dark wood furniture. The bed was made with fluffy white linens that looked incredibly inviting. But that revealed the real problem. Bed, singular. There was only one bed. She'd asked the lady at the front desk, but a room with two beds hadn't been available. So she'd accepted the key to the largest room they had. And it was large, it even had a sitting area, but again it only had the one bed.

Emma hoisted her duffle bag onto the dresser and began rummaging through it looking for what she'd need to freshen up before dinner. She gave a surprised glance at the bathroom door when she realized the water was running, Hook must have decided to take a shower before getting dressed in his new clothes.

She was just deciding that the one bed conundrum was something she'd tackle after dinner when the bathroom door opened and Hook emerged, fully dressed, but still drying his damp hair with a fluffy white towel.

When he saw her an outrageous smile transformed his countenance and he opened his arms wide. "Well, what do you think?" Before she could answer, he motioned to the towel that hung from his hook. "I must admit, Emma, your realm is capable of a quality textile."

Without her permission, her pulse quickened as she studied him. She silently scolded herself for allowing herself to be attracted to him. She must have had a way she controlled her reactions to him back when they were in Neverland, but for the life of her she couldn't remember how. Maybe it had been easier then because they were always around people and she'd been obsessed with saving Henry. Here, tonight, it was just the two of them, Henry was safe with Regina and there was nothing they could do for David until the morning.

He was wearing black pants and one of the fitted, long-sleeved black v-necks. She congratulated herself on her sizing, because both molded to him perfectly. However, he was also wearing all of his jewelry plus his hook. He looked less flamboyant without the leather, but not all that different. "Well, we're on the right track, but we still need a few adjustments."

The spacious room suddenly seemed incredibly intimate and she was hyper aware that they were alone. Stealing herself for the nearness, she walked over to him. With one motion she lifted his right hand and slowly began removing his rings.

His eyebrows raised as he watched her slowly slide each ring up and off his fingers. "Careful, luv, divesting a pirate of his treasures can be dangerous."

She cleared her throat in the hopes that her voice wouldn't squeak. "Nice try, but I'm not scared of you."

"Aye, but do you know how much these are worth?"

"So we'll put them somewhere safe." As she spoke she reached up and removed his earring, at that he didn't protest. Next she reached around his neck to remove the chains that hung there.

As she pulled them up and over his head, he reached up and gently wrapped his hook around her forearm. "Wait, Emma, you can take them, save one." He fingered the chains until he found the one belonging to an ornate silver oval. He separated it and then put it back around his neck. "This one I'm not letting out of my sight, but I'll tuck it under my clothing, so it doesn't draw attention, if that pleases you."

Emma studied it as best she could before he let it slide down his chest and under his shirt. It looked like a locket. With a pang she realized it was probably something that had belonged to Milah and he'd vowed never to take it off or something. And then she kicked herself because there was no reason for her to be having pangs, none at all.

"That's fine, but you know you need to lose that." She pointed to his hook which was still around her wrist.

"Don't worry, I'll wear the false hand." Hook let her go and began to unscrew his sharp appendage.

With a satisfied nod, she next grabbed a tissue from the box on the dresser and brought it up to his face. With a motion practiced by years of taking off her own make up she swiped it across one eye.

"Hey." He batted her away. "What are you doing?"

She looked down at the tissue. It was still pristinely white. No black smudge. "Are you kidding me? That's just your eye?"

"What?" he asked with confusion.

Leaning in as closely as she could, she gently pulled at his lower eyelid. "Wow, that isn't… it really is just… you. Odd. Must be some magical pirate thing. Okay, we'll live with it." She stepped back to survey him as a whole. "Not bad, now I think you can pass as… how did you put it? Prosaic…" But as she studied him she realized there was nothing ordinary about him. You could take him out of the leather and pirate trappings, but he was just as striking as he had always been, perhaps now he just looked less out of place. "Yeah, definitely not prosaic, but at least you don't look like an understudy from an off-Broadway production of the Pirates of Penzance. Let's go."

xxxxxxxx

They'd found an upscale diner on the town's main street, several blocks from the inn. Emma thought the dark, retro decor was more suited to a cocktail lounge in Manhattan than to a diner in small town Vermont, but the yummy smells that assailed them as they'd pushed open the door had made Emma's stomach growl so it had been an easy choice.

"Hook?" She peered over the menu at him. "Do you know what you're going to get? Do you need me to explain any foods to you?"

At that he put his menu down and sat back against the booth. "You know, Emma, if I'm going to all this trouble to blend in the least you could do is help me get into character."

"That's what I'm doing, offering to help you fit in by explaining truffle macaroni and cheese." Pleased with her own joke, her lips twitched slightly upwards. "Plus I bought all your clothes, I approved the look, what else do you want me to do?"

His new, Land-Without-Magic-approved, black leather jacket was lying next to him in the booth. He reached into the interior pocket of the jacket and pulled out the passport Regina had given him. He slid it across the table to her. "Don't you think it might attract unwanted attention if someone hears you call me 'Hook'?"

Emma took the passport and studied it. She glanced up at him appraisingly. "Killian Jones. She used your real name?"

At that a smile lit his face. "You remember."

Emma blushed slightly before admitting, "I remember."

"You've never called me by anything other than 'Hook,' so I wasn't sure."

"I remember." She repeated, this time as much for herself. Her memories were really starting to gel, especially, if she was completely honest with herself, as they pertained to him. However, that was probably because she'd spent every waking moment with him since she'd gotten them back.

"So what do you say? Do you want to play your part in our little charade here?"

She acquiesced with a nod. "Killian." She tried out the word, but immediately after saying it crinkled up her nose. "I don't know."

"What?" Hook asked sounding self conscious.

"It sounds made up. I feel silly when I say it. You're Hook to me, I'm sorry."

"Well, I'm sorry." He was clearly offended. "But for the next day or two you're going to have to get used to it. So try it again."

Now she smiled widely at him. "Just teasing. It's a nice name. I like it, Killian."

"Good." He didn't want to show how relieved he felt that she'd just been winding him up, but somewhere in the middle of this conversation, her acknowledging the part of him that was Killian had become important to him. He quickly continued, "So as you were saying earlier, we need a false narrative if we're asked questions at the border or elsewhere. What're you thinking? Something in the realm of I'm Killian Jones and you're…" he paused waiting for her to fill in the blank.

"I think we can stick with Emma Swan." She tried to sound annoyed, but the amused glint in her eyes gave her away. She was actually enjoying this, enjoying herself.

"Very well, I'm Killian Jones and you're Emma Swan and we're a young, attractive… let's be honest, _very_ attractive…" he wagged his eyebrows at her before he continued, "…couple in love, traveling to Montreal for a romantic rendezvous. There. What do you think?"

She rolled her eyes, before shooting back, "I was thinking more along the lines that I'm a bail bonds person and you're my bounty."

"I see, you think a beautiful blonde transporting a dashing criminal across this border of yours in your yellow contraption will attract less attention than a pair of young lovers who just want to, I don't know, frolic across the countryside."

"Frolic?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes, you know we'll tell them we want to enter their land so that we can do whatever young people in love do there, skip around, sing songs, hold hands, pick wild flowers that sort of thing."

"No matter what, we are not frolicking, there will be no frolic. What so ever. At all." She tried to sound stern, but she couldn't contain the giggles at the thought of him skipping and singing songs. Through her laughter she said, "We tell them that they'll arrest us on suspected use of illegal substances for sure."

He smiled at her. "I like your laugh. I've heard it far too infrequently during our acquaintance." That thought, though, preyed on his guilt. He was silent for several long moments and when he spoke his voice was taut and the honesty was a tightly woven thread through his words. "I'm so very sorry, Emma, for those times when your unhappiness was due to me."

Emma contemplated that with a frown. There had been times he'd been wicked and other times when he'd just been a pain, but unhappy wasn't the right emotion to assign to how, even then, she'd felt around him. "You actually haven't been the author of that much of my unhappiness. Definitely some of my aggravation and at times you certainly contributed to my work load, but I've found I rarely feel unhappy around you." She turned the truth of that over in her mind, even when he'd been at the height of his quest for revenge; some part of her had always enjoyed their sparring.

"Really?" He smirked at her, wanting to lighten the mood since it was his fault it had turned serious. He wanted to see her smile again, wanted to hear that laugh. "Even during a certain sword fight?"

"Are you kidding? I beat you, I felt great after that sword fight."

"You did not beat me." His voice went up almost an octave as he said it.

"How do you figure? You were knocked out."

"Yes, but only because I let you win."

Emma shook her head vigorously in protest.

"Darling, yes, you knocked me out with the compass, but at any time during the actual sword fight I could have killed you, had I wanted to. I didn't. But don't fool yourself." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Actually, I've been meaning to speak to you. We need to work on your swordplay."

"So even though you lost, you think you can teach me a thing or two about playing with swords?" Emma was a bit surprised at herself, at her tone. She wasn't challenging him, she was flirting with him.

"I know I could teach you a thing or two hundred things about the handling of a sword. In fact, we can start tonight if you're up for it." Innuendo dripped from every word he spoke.

Outwardly Emma rolled her eyes at him, but on the inside she was smiling, because the truth was she hadn't had this much fun in a very long time.

xxxxxxxx

Dinner had been pleasant. Actually, if she was completely honest, it had been more than pleasant. But it had been an incredibly long day and both were admittedly tired so they'd headed back to the inn as soon as they were done eating. Once there, she was once again confronted with the solitary bed situation. Thankfully, or maybe not thankfully, he was the one who broached the subject.

"Swan, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

He had emerged from the bathroom wearing the t-shirt and athletic pants she's bought for him to wear as pajamas. She'd purchased them in case a situation like this arose, where they were sleeping in close quarters, even though at the time of purchase she hadn't consciously pictured a scenario where it would happen. Yet here they were.

Before he spoke he cleared his throat and was visibly trying to appear nonchalant. "Why not get two rooms?"

She was sure she'd blushed more in the last day than she had in the entire last year and now she did it again. "I could tell you I was thinking of our cover…"

He studied her shrewdly. "But that wouldn't be the truth?"

She shook her head. "No. I…" She was at a loss for words. She wanted to be honest, but that required some introspection. "Honestly, when I walked up to the front desk I had every intention of renting two rooms, but I guess after everything that's happened in the last day… I didn't want to be alone. In reality I've been alone my whole life, but now I have these memories of always being with Henry. So… I haven't been alone in a very long time." Emma's honesty startled even herself; she wasn't used to opening up to people, in either life.

I tried to get a room with two beds, but they didn't have one. So I rented just the one room and decided we'd figure it out later." She sighed audibly. "I guess later has come. I was being silly; we can get another room."

Emma showing any vulnerability was such a rarity that this simple display made his heart clench. He replied quickly to put her at ease. "That's not necessary; I was just, uh," he momentarily paused searching for the right words. "Trying to get a lay of the land, as it were."

"It's a king-sized bed. We can share it. I don't mind," she said as she turned down the feathery white comforter on the bed. She'd already changed into her pajamas.

He winced at her invitation. He knew she was offering to share the bed and not inviting him into her bed. He shook his head. "No."

"Okay…" Emma couldn't hide the hurt and confusion that flashed across her features. As it happened he had turned away from her and didn't see what her expression betrayed. She had been certain he wouldn't object to sleeping in the same bed as her. Had his feelings for her changed? She cleared her throat and tried not to let her surprise at his rebuff show. "There's a couch, it looks comfortable. I'll, uh, sleep there and you can take the bed."

Hook turned back to her with a scandalized expression. "Emma, if you think there is any part of me that would allow a lady to sleep on a sofa while I slept in a bed, you sadly underestimate me."

"Because you're a gentleman?" She ventured a guess.

"Precisely. I'll take the sofa. I assure you it will offer more comfortable accommodation than I've experienced most nights of my life."

"Okay," she agreed and grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and a blanket from the closet and took them over to him. With no more words spoken between them the lights were extinguished and they both turned in; she in the bed, he on the sofa.

In the dark, Emma trained her eyes on his prone form across the room. He was laying on his side, his back to her; the couch was barely long enough to fit his entire height. There was no way that was comfortable; although she could readily believe he'd slept in many a worse place. Still she couldn't get over the fact that he'd refused to sleep in the bed. The offer had been unplanned, but sincere and the rejection really stung. Who sleeps on a too-short couch, when an amazingly comfortable king-sized bed is available? Was it her? Was he suddenly repelled by, rather than attracted to her? Then her mind turned to what other reason he might have. What did she not know? A lot, she realized, she really had no idea what he'd been doing for the last year. Maybe he was with someone else now and didn't know how to tell her. It didn't necessarily fit with what had happened in the last day, but, still, it was possible. He was, after all, an incredibly attractive pirate. And that's when she remembered.

"Can I ask you a question?" She finally ventured, her pulse picking up speed as she opened a topic of conversation that might prove painful.

"As you wish." He sighed and flipped onto his back so he was stretched out as much as he could, his eyes trained on the dark ceiling.

"The last day in Storybrooke…" She cleared her throat before she continued. "What exactly was going on with you and Tinker Bell?"

He was silent for several moments as he processed her question, thinking back to that day. It had been about the last thing he'd expected her to ask him. Then it dawned on him, the memory coming into sharp focus. "I knew it, you were jealous!" He whispered it triumphantly, as if she wasn't supposed to hear, but she did.

"I was not!" She replied indignantly.

At that he flipped to his other side, so he was facing out towards the room. However, it was too dark for him to see anything of her other than a silhouette lying on the bed. "Obviously, if you're asking me about it a year later, you still are jealous. Emma Swan is jealous. This is bloody amazing." It shouldn't have, but for a man looking for any clue his feelings had any chance of being returned this made him happy, extremely happy.

"So that's all it was?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, unemotional. This was just a fact finding conversation, nothing more. "Your attempt at making me jealous."

"I didn't try to make you jealous, but once it appeared you were, I may have exploited it."

"So nothing happened?"

He remembered his honesty pledge, besides he did feel a twinge of shame over his behavior that day. "Well, not exactly."

Instantly, Emma felt sick to her stomach. She had no right, but it didn't stop the feeling. "Oh, God, don't tell me you two are actually…"

"No," he quickly reassured her. "Nothing happened with Tinker Bell. I admit I propositioned her that day, but she wasn't having it."

"You propositioned her?" Emma sat up in the bed and now she allowed her voice to be indignant. "So let me get this straight. One day you're in Neverland telling me that you were going to win my heart, that as soon as we got Henry back the fun was going to begin. And only a few days later we're in Storybrooke and you're propositioning another woman? That's an interesting strategy."

Even though it was dark and he couldn't necessarily see her expression, he could feel her eyes burning through him with disapproval. He flipped back over on his back so he didn't have to feel her stare at him. "I did proposition her, but it was just my damnable pirate's tongue. I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to go through with it, even if she had been receptive. Which, as I said, she was not, I'd been drinking and she knew I was upset about you."

"Why were you upset about me? I'd barely seen you. We'd only been back a day or so. I hadn't even had time to think about what I wanted."

"You hadn't made a decision, but I had." Even just thinking about it now sent a stabbing sensation to his gut. The decision hadn't been easy.

"What do you mean?" Emma was now determined to get to the bottom of this. She had no intention of stopping until she had the full story.

"I told Baelfire that I was backing off."

"Why would you do that?"

"For your boy. To give him a chance to have what none of us had… a family. And to be honest it was for Bae, too."

Emma was torn between being absolutely furious at the two men making plans for her life without her and having her heart melt at his obvious concern for what her son might want. Anger won out. "So you and Neal sat around and figured out what was best for me? Without my input? I remember how tired I was of everyone, especially Mary Margaret, pushing me towards Neal, but, frankly, you were the last person I expected to join their ranks! Did you even care what I thought?"

"Of course I cared, Emma. But, if the three of you could become a family then I didn't want to stand in the way. I did that once before and I wasn't going to do it again. So I decided to remove myself as a distraction that you didn't need. But trust me; it wasn't easy, if you'd decided you wanted me, my resolve would have crumbled."

"So you're not with Tinker Bell?"

"Now? No, of course not." He was quite taken aback that she would even ask such a thing.

"Anyone else?"

He paused trying to puzzle out where this was coming from. Hadn't he made his intentions clear? He'd actually tried true love's kiss on her… did the fact that it didn't work make her doubt him? "No, I didn't have time to woo any other ladies while I was in the Enchanted Forest; I assure you I was otherwise occupied. Emma, what's this about?"

"Why won't you share the bed?" The question came out before she could stop it. Now she could once again feel the flush in her cheeks.

"Oh…" He sighed deeply as he stared up at the dark ceiling above him. "Emma, I'm just a man."

She was silent for several seconds until, against her better judgment, she spoke again. "What does that mean?"

He searched for the right words to explain and then decided on what had worked for him so far with her, honesty. "I'm just a man and you… well, you're a desirable woman… actually as far as I'm concerned you are the most desirable woman. Tonight, I'm sure you're just being kind and inviting me to share sleeping space for my own comfort. Well I wouldn't be comfortable. Actually, I can think of few things less comfortable than to be that close to you, but unable to touch you. So until the time comes when you really and truly invite me into your bed, I can't share your bed."

It took her a full minute to respond, mostly because his blunt words had stolen her breath. And to think five minutes ago she was upset because she thought he didn't want her anymore. She was now certain that no one, in her entire life, had ever wanted her more. His words were humbling, and gratifying, and, yes, incredibly sexy.

Finally, the only reply she could muster was a throaty, "You seem awfully sure I'm going to be inviting you into my bed."

As the seconds had ticked by and she'd remained silent, he'd begun to worry he'd been too honest, too soon. But once she spoke, a relieved smirk spread across his face. "Oh, I know you will."

"Do you, now? And when do you anticipate this happening?"

"Sooner than you think."

She let that sink in for a minute. "Hook… I mean Killian."

"Swan, I mean Emma," he returned playfully.

"In Storybrooke… today… I told Neal there was no hope for us."

His heart stopped in his chest and the smile died on his lips. What was she saying? Finally he held his breath and asked in a smaller than normal voice, "No hope for us? You and me?"

She furrowed her brows as she stared up at the ceiling. "No, no hope for Neal and me. It's over. You and he can make all the plans for a happy nuclear family that you want, but I've decided that I can't go back. I know your intentions were noble, but Henry is going to be fine. And I told Neal because I don't want him to have false hope."

"I see. But you're not telling me there's no hope," he asked, feeling both hope and fear bubble in his chest.

Emma was silent as her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She hadn't meant to open the door to this conversation, but here it was wide open. "No, I'm not telling you there's no hope. But…" she swallowed convulsively, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I'm also not telling you there is hope, so don't let it go to your head."

He chuckled deeply as a grin spread from ear to ear. She was definitely telling him there was hope. His anxiety melted away and he could practically feel his heart soar. "I wouldn't dream of it. Good night, dear Emma."

"Good night, Killian."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The next morning proved only slightly awkward. Well maybe more than slightly.

The alarm sounded at 5:30am. As Emma reached to the side of the bed in order to shut it off, she received a jolt when she saw the sleeping form on the couch. Right. Hook. She was sharing a room with Hook. She was traveling with Hook. She remembered where she was and what she was doing; Vermont, and headed across the Canadian border for Operation Save Grandpa.

"Hook?" When he didn't answer, she spoke a little louder. "Hook, do you want to shower first or should I?"

All the response she received was a grunt, so she took that as leave to shower first. Once under the pulsating hot water, she began to feel alive again. She permitted herself a minute of indulgence, simply standing there allowing the water to envelope her. But only a minute; she was anxious they get on the road as soon as possible.

It was when she got out of the shower, and was drying her hair, that she realized her mistake. In her sleepy haze she hadn't brought any clothes into the bathroom. So there she was standing in front of the mirror, her only means of cover a fluffy, but not overly large, white towel wound around her mid-section.

And that was awkward. Especially after what he'd said last night. He'd said she was desirable. Well, he'd actually said she was the most desirable, but she couldn't think of herself in those terms. But when a man had expressed a sentiment like that, it really wasn't kind to parade half-naked in front of him scant hours later.

"Hook?" She poked her head out of the bathroom door.

He was seated on the couch and she saw him reach up and scrub his hand through his hair and then rub his eyes. "Swan, you're supposed to be helping me get into character."

"Right, sorry, it takes some getting used to. Killian, I need you to close your eyes and then trade places with me."

"Sorry?" With confusion, he looked across the room to where her voice was coming through the partially open bathroom door.

"Come switch places with me, I need to get dressed out there. But close your eyes."

With a shake of his head he stood and stretched. Then with a bemused shrug he cooperated by crossing the room. Once at the door he closed his eyes and Emma exited.

However, as she passed by him, he murmured, "Nice, Swan."

His voice made her stop. Looking up at him, she discovered he was less than a foot away and his eyes were most definitely open. Her breathing hitched at the dark look she saw there as his gaze blatantly traveled over her exposed skin above the towel. Silence reigned for a long moment; the only sound their breath mingling. The air seemed to be charged with some unseen electrical current, sparking at random, drawing them closer. Then the space between them dwindled, she wasn't sure if she leaned in to him or he leaned into her. Or, most likely, they leaned into one another.

Finally, just inches apart, she gently scolded him. "I told you to close your eyes." Her voice came out in a low rasp, barely above a whisper.

He too spoke in a low tone as his gaze traveled to her lips. "You also reminded me I'm a pirate, luv… I don't always do as I'm told."

She swallowed hard. What was she doing? Half naked, leaning into him, this was not the time. She wasn't sure there was ever going to be a time, but she knew for certain this was not it. She needed to break the connection, so she forced herself to step away from him. As she pointed to the bathroom, she struggled to hide the fact that she needed to catch her breath. "Go."

He sighed deeply. "As you wish."

xxx

Emma pulled a white sweater, jeans and boots from her duffle and dressed quickly. More quickly than she normally would and she wasn't a dawdler to begin with. But the last thing she needed was to still be in any state of undress before he emerged. Besides she needed to talk to the innkeeper before they left, so as soon as she was passably ready for the day she embarked on this errand.

When she returned she was carrying coffees and a breakfast sandwich for each of them. She found him packing the rest of the clothes in a leather satchel that she wasn't sure she'd seen before. But that wasn't what stopped her in her tracks.

"Oh, uh, I see you're wearing the shirt I bought you."

"Aye. How do I look in blue? Normal enough not to attract undue attention at this border we're meant to cross? It feels a little odd, but if you say its acceptable then I'll concede."

She felt her pulse pick up speed as she studied him. Then she cursed herself silently for the involuntary reaction. As she had suspected while shopping, he looked really good in the color. But that wasn't what was fueling her reaction. Fighting to keep her voice even she replied. "You look… all right. Or, at least, you will when you finish dressing. If you go to the border like that, you're definitely going to attract attention."

The deep blue shirt hung loosely off his broad shoulders, but it was completely unbuttoned, exposing a wide strip of skin from his neck to the waistband of his pants, which, thankfully, he was wearing. Involuntarily her eyes traveled from the familiar swirls of dark hair on his chest- stopping momentarily at the locket he refused to take off— to the completely unfamiliar pale skin of his abs and stomach. Once her eyes got to his stomach she tried to look away, but instead couldn't help but follow the smattering of dark hair that trailed from his belly button down to an unknown spot hidden from her gaze by the black fabric of his trousers.

He coughed and that shook her out of her transfixion. Her eyes snapped back to his face and she found a bemused expression there.

"Why…" her voice croaked and found she needed to clear her throat before continuing. "Why isn't your shirt buttoned?"

With feigned helplessness he held up his hook. "Can't do it by myself."

"Are you kidding me? I have never seen more complicated clothing than what you wear on a daily basis."

He shrugged innocently. "I know how those fasteners work, but with these I'm unpracticed. Plus…" he fiddled with one of the button on his shirt. "They're so small; you're going to have to help me."

"Fine." She tried to appear more vexed than aroused as he approached, and the truth was she wasn't sure which feeling was currently more dominant. Of course she was mostly vexed at herself for buying the shirt in the first place. If she'd just bought him all black pullovers like she'd planned this wouldn't be happening.

Once in front of her, she keenly felt his presence. There was something magnetic about him, about being this near to him. Her knuckles brushed his chest as she started to fumble with a button near the top of the shirt. At the contact she heard his breathing hitch. Good. At least she wasn't the only one affected. The first button took some time, her fingers felt extraordinarily clumsy. But once she completed the first, she made quick work of the others. She had to finish and move away from him for her own peace of mind.

However, when her work was complete she took the time to smooth down the shirt and help him tuck it into his pants. Finally she stepped away and surveyed him. As her gaze moved upwards, she found a twinkle in his eye and his voice was laced with humor when he spoke. "Now, what do you think?"

"You look good," she deadpanned, trying to make a joke. "Like a sexy insurance adjuster from Des Moines."

"Sexy is the only word I comprehend from that description so I'll take it as a compliment. Does that mean my eyes are… enhanced enough for your liking?"

Instead of speaking, she shot him an exasperated look. Because the truth was with the way the shirt was bringing out his eyes, she was going to have to spend the rest of the day not looking directly at him, which was probably a good idea anyway.

He turned to go finish packing his satchel when he remembered that he needed to speak to her about something. "One thing, before we leave, though." He waved the fingers of his right hand at her. "Where are my treasures?"

She walked to the closet, opened the door and gestured to the room safe. But instead of taking them out, she began to close the door on them.

His voice was suddenly filled with very real concern. "You can't mean to leave them here?"

"Yes, what if the car gets searched at the border? How are we supposed to explain your treasures from another realm? Let alone your dagger. It's a good thing you don't have your sword with you. Plus they'll ask us about alcohol so the flask stays too. I've rented the room for several more nights. They'll be fine here. We can get them on the way back. In fact you should leave your coat and vest in the closet as well."

"I won't have a weapon?" He looked longingly at his dagger as she closed the safe and set the code.

"Hopefully we won't need any weapons. Regina said she's a kindly old lady."

"So kindly she may have kidnapped your father. At least let me bring my hook."

"Fine," she relented. "You can bring your hook. Just don't wear it now."

He eyed her carefully with a furrowed brow, before issuing a challenge. "What are you leaving behind?"

"I don't need to leave anything behind. I didn't bring anything suspicious with me."

There was suddenly an edge to him; in his voice and in his posture. "Then how do I know we're coming back here?"

At that Emma tensed. Both his manner and his words had stung her. She met his gaze with questioning eyes. "Don't you trust me?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I'd feel better if you had as much reason to come back here as I do."

"Fine." The word was laced with irritation as she unwound the shoelace from her wrist and then unclasped the necklace from around her neck. "These aren't worth much, but they have sentimental value, I'll leave them behind. Are you satisfied?"

Finally he nodded. "It will do."

"Good." With brimming resentment, she'd shut her belongings in the safe beside his. When she turned back she didn't look at him when she spoke. "Now, if you're ready, can we leave? I'd like to go get David. We've already wasted too much time this morning."

xxx

The tension they'd both felt over the conversation spilled into their drive. She, of course, drove and he navigated. But for the directions he gave her there was very little else said between them as they left the quiet Vermont town and headed for the border.

He could tell she was angry, that much was clear. But he wasn't sure exactly what she had to be upset about. He'd simply wanted them to be on equal footing after all. He was still bothered that most of his worldly possessions—or at least his possessions in this world- were back in their room at the inn. However, at this point his annoyance had mostly waned and had been replaced by a desire to reclaim the easy rapport that they'd shared through most of this trip. After about twenty minutes of silence, he finally relented. "Emma…"

"What?" Her tone was even and unemotional.

"I sense that you're upset with me."

"You sense that I'm upset? Good powers of perception." She was aware that she was more upset now than she had been when they'd left the inn. But she'd had time. Had time to think about what he'd said, about what his words meant. And now she was definitely upset.

"But I'm not sure why. I've forgiven you-"

"You've forgiven me? Well, that's swell. Thanks!"

He wasn't sure why, but he was pretty sure that he'd just made it worse. He tried again. "Emma…"

"We're not going to talk about this now."

"But, we can't go all day-"

"No, look." She interrupted, motioning in front of them to where the border crossing loomed large. It was still fairly early and thankfully the lines of cars were not long. "We're not talking about this now, _Killian._"

"Oh, right." He'd pretty much been dismissing her concerns about this border crossing for the last day and a half. But suddenly, as he looked at the giant barrier and the armed guards, he was nervous. He glanced over at her. "Are we going with young lovers or the dashing criminal story?"

"Hopefully neither. Don't give them any information they don't ask for," she warned.

"Yes, I know. You told me that yesterday. But if they do ask…"

"Young lovers," she replied grudgingly. She spared a glance over at him as they came to a stop in the line of cars. "We'll pretend we like each other. But seriously no details, say as little as possible. Actually, let me do the talking. You sit there looking like a mild-mannered, non-threatening type guy… you know, the opposite of what you are."

"I don't have to pretend to like you, Emma." He tried to inject some of his normal swagger into the comment, but his tone ended up sounding too genuine to pull it off.

"Well, at the moment, I have to pretend to like you."

At that he gave up and sagged back against his seat and turned to look out his passenger-side window.

Emma's keen eyes took everything in as they pulled up to the window. God, she hoped Regina knew what she was doing with magic passports. And then it hit her. She couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to her earlier that maybe David's passport had failed and he was sitting in some national security detention facility right now! Her heart rate shot up and in an instant she felt perspiration on her palms. She forced herself to take a deep breath; the only way to find out was to go through. If Killian's document worked, then David's probably had too. If it didn't work, then that was a bridge they would have no choice but to cross in about 30 seconds.

She passed both passports and her driver's license through the open window, willing herself to calm down.

"You drove all the way from New York?" A stout woman with severe features asked as she looked at Emma's driver's license.

"Yes, my boyfriend and I are on vacation." Emma reached over and grabbed Hook's gloved hand for show, but didn't remember that it was prosthetic until it was too late. Her face flushed, but she kept her grip on the unmoving appendage. "Taking our time. Quaint inns, B&Bs, that type of thing. We thought we'd try Montreal." Damn. Stop talking! She yelled at herself. What was she doing? The exact opposite of what she'd ordered Hook to do, that was what. Her last second nerves were getting the better of her.

"How long are you staying?"

"Just a day or two, we want to spend some time frol-"

"Frol?" the woman prodded when Emma stopped speaking.

Emma swallowed and then forced a smile. "Frolicking. I meant to say frolicking. He likes to frolic. It's what we call sighting, you know trendy New Yorkers always inventing a new word, when an old one will do." Seriously, what was wrong with her?

"Are you carrying any illegal substances?" The woman eyed her warily.

"No." Emma nodded and then tried to shoot her a relaxed smile.

Then the woman went through a laundry list of questions. Thankfully, the answer to which were all a simple 'no.' "Drugs? Firearms? Alcohol or Tobacco? Meat? Fruit? Vegetables?"

The woman looked down at her from her perch in the window and was about to hand their documents back. "One last thing, do either of you have any past convictions?"

Emma froze. Fuck. She hadn't thought… she hadn't realized they would ask this. She was trying to figure out whether to tell the truth or lie when the woman amended, "In the last five years."

Emma let out a breath of air and then prayed the woman hadn't noticed. "No, ma'am."

"Good enough. Bienvenue au Québec."

Emma turned forward, let go of Hook's false hand and put the car into drive. It took a moment for her racing heart to return to normal.

After a couple of minutes of silence he said, "That was quite a display, Swan."

Humor was evident in his voice. She narrowed her eyes and briefly glanced over to him as she drove. "What?"

"Did you have some sort of verbal malfunction, darling? Something happen that prevented you from stopping speaking? However I am glad to know that you've changed your mind about frolicking."

"No." She pointed over at him with her right hand. "You do not get to tease me. Not while I'm mad at you."

The humor that had been present in his voice and expression a moment earlier was now gone. "About that-"

"I'm not in the mood." She sighed irritably as she interrupted him.

With that rebuff, he let it sit for some time. Again their communication was limited to a few navigational items. It was another half hour before he tried again.

"Emma, I'm sorry I've made you angry." When she didn't respond, he ventured, "Do you accept my apology?"

Instead of answering she glanced over at him long enough to roll her eyes.

"Emma…" He was clearly exasperated. "Just tell me what I've done."

"You know what; I don't want to get into this right now. So we're fine. Let's just focus on finding David."

He watched her for a moment and then shrugged. "If that's what you desire."

"That is what I desire. Now let's go over what we know about this Good Witch of the North."

He complied; if only because she was starting a conversation and that was a vast improvement. "Regina said she's a kind, elderly lady who likes handsome men. Don't worry; I'll be on my guard."

"Hmm," Emma shook her head, purposely ignoring his joke. "We need more than that."

Then it dawned on him. "This morning at Regina's you mentioned something about the Wicked Witch being afraid of water. How did you know that?"

Emma frowned in thought. "It's worth a try, hand me my phone." Once he'd held it up to her, she reached over and pressed the home button to close the GPS. Then pressed the browser app. "There," she pointed to demonstrate. "Use those letters down there to spell out 'Good Witch of the North.'"

It took him a couple of minutes, what with one hand and with navigating the unfamiliar arrangement of letters, but when he'd finished he held the phone back up to her. Shifting her eyes between the road and the screen she reached over and touched a link and then motioned to the wiki article that had appeared. "Now read." Then as an afterthought she added, "Please."

After studying it with furrowed brow, he looked over at her. "It's like magic."

"It's like technology. And we're roaming in another country, so I'm going to pay a pretty penny for it. Now let's see what it says about this Good Witch of the North."

xxx

"There!" Hook pointed to a sign on a dirt road. They'd made excellent time. It wasn't even noon when they found themselves on a narrow road in a rural area that was actually south of Montreal.

"What?" Emma asked as she scanned the country side, trying to figure out what had gotten him so excited.

"Gilliken Country Lane. That has to be it." He motioned down to the phone in his lap. "Gilliken Country was referenced in the magic library in your phone and the sign is purple, which doesn't match the others in this area."

"It's also the only name that doesn't sound French." She glanced over at him and she executed a U-turn in the bug and headed back to the lane. "I think we found it. Good job."

At that faint praise he smiled. While she had been speaking to him as they learned everything her phone could tell them about the Good Witch of the North, there'd still been an icy reserve to her interactions with him and she'd been dismissive of him on several occasions.

Emma steered the car up the lane and stopped at the mailbox. Reading the name that was on the side of it, she said, "North. I'd say this is it." She drove on until an elaborate farmhouse painted in all different shades of purple came into view. It was surrounded by a lush landscape of exotic trees and flowering bushes that didn't match the surrounding country.

As she pulled to a stop in front of the house, he looked over to her. "What's the plan?"

"Knock on the door."

"Are you sure, maybe we should look around first, or perhaps one of us should stand sentry while-"

Without ceremony she interrupted him. "We're knocking on the door."

He grimaced at her newly totalitarian attitude. However, he acquiesced; this was her mission, he was just along for the ride. "Lead the way."

Emma was nervous as they stood on the porch. There was something odd about the house, and it wasn't just that it was painted so many different shades of purple that she wouldn't have been able to count them all. It was a feeling. But she steeled herself; the only thing that mattered at the moment was finding David. So she raised her fist and knocked on the ornately-carved front door.

The woman who answered was dressed all in white and was obviously quite old, but still inexplicably lovely. If asked to guess her age, Emma would have had no idea where to start. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Hello, I'm Emma and this, uh, is Killian. We're looking for someone who might have been in this area and we're wondering if perhaps you've seen him. His name is David."

The woman smiled beatifically at them as she stepped back from her door in a welcoming gesture. "Won't you come in, I'm afraid we don't get many visitors out here. I'm Mademoiselle North."

Without betraying the unease Emma felt, she stepped into the woman's home and Hook quickly followed her. She looked around in wonder. It seemed as if every nook and cranny of the colorful room held knickknacks and other assorted treasure. "This is, uh, a lovely place you have, Mademoiselle North."

"Why thank you. I do like to collect… things." At that she eyed Hook up and down. "Has anyone ever told you, sir, that you have the most beautiful eyes?"

Hook took an involuntary step back from the woman and he couldn't help glancing at Emma before he spoke. "Someone might have mentioned something about my eyes before. But thank you for the gracious compliment."

Emma let out an inelegant grunt, but stepped forward, so she was between Hook and the woman whom she had just decided was most definitely the witch they were seeking. The way she was looking at Hook, she obviously liked handsome men. "So, as I was saying, we're looking for a man named David. He's about 30, blonde… quite handsome. Have you seen anyone like that?"

"No, I'm afraid that doesn't ring a bell. Which is unfortunate, he sounds… nice." Mademoiselle North answered serenely.

"Are you sure?" Emma cocked an eyebrow at her. "Because I have reason to believe he was headed to see you."

"I'm an old woman, my dear. No one comes to see me."

"Really? Why's that?"

"Because they can't," she replied simply.

"They can't?" Emma motioned between Hook and herself. "But we're here to see you."

"Yes, dear, but you're not from here."

Emma's eyes went wide as she tried to ascertain her meaning. "Uh, no, I'm not. I'm from New York."

"No, dear. I mean you're not from _here_." The woman put special emphasis on the last word. "And neither is he. If you were from here, you wouldn't have been able to find my home."

"Oh." Emma paused as she tried to figure out what to say next. This was not good. "Well-"

"No, you're right, we're not from here." Hook interrupted as he started to move towards the witch. As he passed Emma she could sense that everything about him had changed; his demeanor, his expression. He was aggressive; he was Hook. "Now where is-"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence before everything went black.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

His head hurt. A lot. And when he tried to move he found he couldn't. But his attempted movement did alert his companion that he was awake.

"Hook!" But she immediately grimaced at her mistake. The witch obviously knew they were not from this realm, but she didn't seem to know who Hook was and Emma thought it was best to keep it that way. "Killian, are you okay?"

He groaned and forced his eyes open. They were in a bright yellow room that was covered in paintings, many of very short people who were all dressed in blue. Assorted furniture, with different patterned upholstery cluttered the room. He was sitting, but he quickly realized his legs and his arms were bound to the chair that propped him up. "Aye, luv, I think I'm okay. My head feels like it was shot out of a bloody cannon. What happened?"

"David hit you over the head with a candlestick." Emma's voice was coming from behind him and from her movements; he realized she was similarly tied to a chair, their wrists bound together.

His mind was still foggy, but he tried to focus on what she had said. "David's here? You saw him?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly. "It happened so fast. You started towards the witch and from out of nowhere he came and hit you. I saw him. But that's all I remember, the next thing I knew we were in this very strange… I guess you'd call it a parlor, tied up and you were out cold. I've been worried about you, are you sure you're okay."

"Aye, as you know it's not the first time I've been hit on the head." He spoke through gritted teeth as he pulled against the restraints. "At least David's here."

"But he obvious doesn't have his memory." Emma sighed dejectedly.

"We assume. I'm sure there is some part of the real him that would jump at the opportunity to knock me out."

"Really? Things that bad between you and David in the Enchanted Forrest?" For a moment, curiosity made Emma forget about their seemingly grim situation. "Before the curse I thought you two were well on your way to being mates."

Hook was still in pain and thus said through a grimace, "Mates? I'm not sure-"

However, he wasn't able to finish his thought because right then the door opened.

"David!" Emma cried when she saw him enter.

He looked at her oddly. "How do you know my name? Did mother tell you?"

"Mother?" Emma's eyes went so wide they almost rolled out of her head.

"Yes." Now he looked shamed face. "Mother sent me in here to apologize to you." He walked around to address Hook. "She said I wasn't being very hospitable, hitting you over the head. I hope you'll forgive me, but I thought you were attacking her. She says that I was just being silly and I shouldn't have done it. I've brought you refreshments as an apology." He lifted up the tray he was carrying before he set it on a table a few feet away from them. "I hope you'll enjoy them while we're gone."

"Gone?" Emma asked apprehensively as she pulled against her binds. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking mother to the ballet."

"David, no… that is not your mother." Emma spit out the words in a hurry. Her head was spinning as she tried to reconcile the amnesiac in front of her with David. The first time she'd seen him in a year and he had no idea who she was. She'd thought she'd been prepared, but this, this was disconcerting to say the least.

He looked at her incredulously. "What an odd thing for you to say. Of course she's my mother."

"No, she's not. You have to untie us and we have to get out of here. We're all in danger!"

"Danger? No, I promise you I won't hurt you or your friend again. That, before, was a misunderstanding."

"No, we're not in danger from you. David, look at me, you've lost your memory. I can help you get it back. You came here to help Mary Margaret, please just untie me and I'll prove it to you."

"I've never seen you before in my life and I've never heard of a Mary Margaret." David's reply was matter-of-fact.

"Mary Margaret is your wife and you love her very much. You have to remember for her sake. It's important."

"I think I would know if I was married." David was clearly getting annoyed. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You've got to believe me," Emma pleaded.

He walked over so he was standing directly in front of her and then demanded, "Why should I believe you?"

In frustration, Emma all but yelled, "Because I'm your daughter!"

That gave David pause, but then he seemed to shake it off and instead looked at her pityingly. "You must not be feeling well, I'm afraid that's my fault for scaring you. Again, I apologize. And I assure you that I'm not married and I don't have any children. Besides, you should look in a mirror; we're about the same age."

"Yes, I know we look the same age, it's a long story. One I'll gladly tell you if…" Emma stopped speaking when she saw Mademoiselle North enter the room.

"Oh good, I see you've been getting acquainted." The witch beamed at David. "Isn't it lovely to have guests?" She turned back to her two detainees. "Unfortunately you've caught my son and me on a day where we have plans. He's taking me to the ballet. Isn't that lovely?"

Both Hook and Emma were speechless.

"We'll have a nice long chat when we get back from the ballet; we can all dine together tonight!" At that thought, the witch clapped her hands together gleefully. "How delightful! It's an early matinee; we'll be back before you know it."

Emma scrambled for something to say. "But, you can't leave us tied up here until then!"

"Not to worry. Once we leave the property, you'll be able to roam freely around this room. But only around this room, you see there are parts of this house that I wouldn't want you to wander into alone, it's for your own safety, I promise you. You'll be quite comfortable here; you can enjoy these refreshments that David brought to you and before you know it we'll be back."

"But my friend Killian is hurt. You can't leave us like this! Not when he's injured." Emma's voice held very real desperation. She would say anything to try and delay David's departure with the witch, but she was also legitimately worried about Hook.

The witch walked around Emma so she could examine the injury. "Oh, David, naughty boy, you gave this nice man a nasty lump." She put her hand on Hook's head and he felt something warm and gentle flow over him. She leaned down until she was mere inches from his face and smiled. "There. You should be feeling better in no time. I hate to leave guests, especially you, pet." She brushed her index finger playfully over the tip of his nose. "But we must say goodbye, at least for now."

"No, don't leave us here. David… Dave… DAD!" Emma yelled to no avail as the door to the parlor shut and they were gone.

The two sat in silence for a long moment and then, despite the situation, Hook began to chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" Emma asked, she sounded defeated.

"Déjà vu. Now you know what it's like to try to convince someone of something when they have absolutely no memory of you. Not easy is it, luv?"

"Not funny," she replied but then had to acknowledge the truth of his statement. "Was I that frustrating?"

"No," he replied without a trace of humor in his voice. "You were much worse. You had me incarcerated, remember?"

"You were wearing leather pants and talking about the Enchanted Forest!" The words came out with a slightly defensive huff. "Now how're we going to get out of this?"

He took a deep breath as he scanned the room. There were windows, but there was something off about them. The scene outside didn't mesh with what he'd seen as they approached the house. "I don't know…" And then he thought of something. He moved his left arm. "Emma, can you feel that. Can you reach my false hand? If you can unscrew it perhaps I can slip out of these binds."

"Good idea." She perked up as she began twisting and searching with her fingers. Her index finger linked with something warm and not wearing a glove.

"That's my good hand," he grunted.

"Oh." She was about to let go, when she felt him squeeze her finger. She hesitated a moment, but before she let go, she squeezed back.

"Admit it, you like the leather pants." Hook cajoled as he felt the gentle pressure of her finger linked with his, a small signal that perhaps things were a bit better between them than they'd been that morning.

"I'll admit no such thing. What about that?" she asked as she felt what could be the leather of his glove.

"Aye, I think you've-"

However, before he could say anymore, the witch made good on her promise. The ropes that had bound them, loosened and slipped away. Once free Emma jumped up, but instead of heading for the door, she quickly rounded the chair so she could kneel before Hook. "Look at me."

"Anytime, luv."

She ignored his come on and instead put her hands on his face. She gently pulled at the skin around his eyelids, his eyes weren't bloodshot and his pupils looked okay. Next she held out a finger and asked him to follow it as she moved it back and forth in front of his face. With a sigh of relief she uttered, "I don't think you have a concussion."

Now she stood to get a better look at the spot where David hit him. She gingerly fingered through his hair. "I can't find a bump, but it's bleeding, or at least it was. I think it's stopped. We need some ice."

He reached up with his right hand and touched his head. "The witch did something when she came over. She may have healed it. The pain has abated."

"At least her magic is good for something," Emma replied. But she went to the table anyway, poking through the refreshments David had supplied looking for something that might help. There were two glasses with ice and water, a tea pot and a plate of pastries and sandwiches covered in plastic wrap. She took the plastic off the food and then reached into one of the waters to extract some ice. Quickly, she wrapped the ice in the plastic and then brought it back over to Hook.

"Emma," he reached up and gently gripped her arm when she tried to apply it to the once injured area. "I assure you, I'm fine. I don't remember you being this concerned the last time I was hit in the head."

"We weren't on the same side then." Her reply was flippant, but the look in her eyes was anything but, he could see the very real concern there as she said imploringly, "Humor me. Please. "

He acquiesced by reaching up and taking the ice from her hand and holding it in place. He watched her quizzically. She'd been angry at him and they'd been off all day, but now he was slightly mollified by her concern for his wellbeing. She couldn't be too mad at him if she was this worried, could she? "What now?"

"You sit there." Emma pointed to a bright yellow and orange flowered settee that sat flush against the wall. "And keep the ice on your injury while I try and find us a way out of here."

xxx

After quite some time spent moving the odd collection of brightly-colored, antique furniture around the room, pulling on doors, peering out false windows filled with scenes that appeared to be from another land, and knocking on walls, she flopped down next to him on the settee. "There's no way out of here."

"Do you want me to help you look?" he asked as he removed the partially melted ice from his head. "I feel fine." He'd attempted to get up and help her several times, but she had ordered him to sit back down in each instance.

"No, I think it's useless. We're going to have to wait for them to get back… which we have to do anyway since I have no intention of leaving this place without David."

"Of course we're not leaving without your father," he replied before motioning to the food on the table. "We could eat."

Emma bit her lower lip before glancing over at him. "What if she put something in it?"

"True," Hook replied with obvious disappointment. "We'd better not. So what are we going to do until they get back?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not what you're suggesting."

"How do you know what I was suggesting?" he asked indignantly.

"Because it's what you're always suggesting."

"I was going to suggest we talk."

"About what?" Emma asked stubbornly.

"About why you were upset at me this morning."

"I'm still upset at you."

"A-ha!" He gestured triumphantly. "That's why we should talk."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"I beg to differ, Emma, you've been upset all day and that caused us to walk into this place being at odds with one another. It's going to require both of us, working as a team, to get out of this so I think it would behoove us to clear the air."

"So you're saying this is my fault."

"No, we're both to blame." However he couldn't help but add, "Maybe you a bit more than me since I tried to apologize to you this morning in the car."

"Do you even know why you were apologizing?" She kept her eyes straight forward, not wanting to look over at him.

"Yes, I was apologizing because you were angry."

Now she rolled her eyes. "Yes, but why was I angry."

"Why are women ever angry? It's an enigma."

"Yeah, it's a real mystery," she replied sarcastically.

"Why don't you just yell at me and get it over with."

"I can't yell at you," she replied incredulously. "You came here to rescue my… David and he just hit you over the head with a candlestick. It would be pretty ungrateful of me to yell at you right now."

"The witch healed me. I'm fine now. Yell at me."

"No."

"Okay, I'll help you. I forgive you," he said remembering what had made her so angry in the car this morning.

She sighed. "What do you forgive me for?"

"I forgive you for asking me to leave my belongings in Vermont."

She clenched both fists at that, but didn't say anything. She was determined not to rise to his bait. "Thank you."

"Emma, you're being stubborn. Were you angry for the same reason? Because you too didn't want to leave your belongings behind?"

"That's not it."

"Then what is it? Because I'm confused. You're clearly angry at me, but at the same time you're showing concern for my wellbeing, I don't understand."

"That!" she practically yelled. "Right there! It's how you think of me."

"Emma, what are you talking about? You know how I feel-"

She cut him off. "Not how you feel about me, what you think of me. Your opinion of me." Her voice was incredulous. "You seriously don't understand how I could be concerned about you?"

He shook his head, not knowing how to answer.

She swallowed hard, pausing to call up the thoughts that had preoccupied her that morning during the drive. "Two days ago I had no idea who you were, I thought you were a crazy pirate fetishist, a stalker and now…" She paused to find the words. "By this morning I thought we were in this place… I thought we were…I don't know, a team. I thought we had trust. But come to find out, that's just me. And you don't actually trust me at all."

"Emma…"

Now she turned to face him, her eyes finding his, her voice slightly rough. "After everything you've done for me—which by the way, I have no idea what exactly you've done for me, because you haven't told me. All I know is that you must have expended significant effort to get to New York and find me—but after all of that, after everything we've been through, first for you to be surprised that I'm concerned for your wellbeing and second for you to think that I would betray your trust… I just, I don't know, you must not think very highly of me… or of my character."

"You know that's not true."

"Do I? I thought we understood each other. Clearly we don't." She laughed, but it was without mirth. "I'm here, trusting you with David's life, trusting you with my life. When we were in Storybrooke; Neal was worried about me coming here with you. He didn't trust you, but I did. Going with you was a no-brainer, the only choice. You've done everything for me, and I'm in a place where I just expect you to do it. You crossed realms for me, why wouldn't you think I'd do something as simple as go back to a hotel to collect things that were important to you?"

Her speech stunned him. In some ways it was gratifying, she rarely revealed things about herself, especially what she was thinking or feeling. And she had been thinking about him, about them, in a way that was pleasing to say the least. However, that just served to make him feel terrible. Why had he thought it necessary for her to leave items behind in the room? The worst part was that he didn't actually know. How was he supposed to answer her if he didn't know himself?

As he thought about it, he realized that maybe that was the answer. He hadn't been thinking when he asked her to lock up some possessions alongside his. He hadn't been thinking of her necessarily. He had just reacted by rote, his behavior driven by years of self-reliance.

Finally he spoke. "I've been a pirate for a very long time."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I look out for myself. That's how I operate, its how I've survived. This morning… it really had nothing to do with you."

"Good to know."

"Emma, please. You have to understand…"

"Listen, I'm not angry. After everything, I have no right to be angry with you. I apologize for my behavior this morning." She offered him a small, but sincere smile, "I was hurt, but that's my problem, not yours. I'll get over it. I just… I need to recalibrate my thinking."

That made him panic. "I don't want you to recalibrate your thinking. I like what you were thinking."

"Yeah, but I don't necessarily like what you were thinking."

At that he sagged back against the settee. She sat still, chewing on her lip and picking at a thread on the bright orange throw pillow next to her.

After a few minutes of silence, she gave a mirthless chuckle. "See, the talking didn't work."

At that he sat up and turned to face her with bit of fire in his eyes. The silence had given him time to reflect. "You don't like what I was thinking? What about what you were thinking?"

"What do you mean?" She asked as she involuntarily shifted to a defensive posture. It consisted of leaning sideways, against the arm of the settee and crossing arms against her chest.

"You're here, on this mission, for your father."

"Yeah, of course." She answered slowly, not sure where he was going with this.

"Well I'm here for you, because of you. In Neverland, you were there for Henry. I was there for you. Just now, you told me more about what's in your heart and mind, than you've let on during our entire acquaintance."

"What's your point?" But she spoke softly as she began to find the truth in his words. She knew she had emotional walls and Mary Margaret had once warned what they someday might cost her.

"Emma…" His eyes held intensity as he searched her face. "Luv, how can you expect me to trust that you have the same priorities that I have? Since that day that I came back and volunteered my ship and my services to take you to Neverland, I've done everything in my power to try and earn your trust. I'm happy indeed to find that I've succeeded. But as you say yourself, it's been one-way. And that's the way it should have been. You've had much more important things to worry about. But that's why you must understand why I might feel an instinctive need to look out for myself." He winced as he let his eyes drop from hers. "It's not that I think you would betray me, but I've had very little reason to believe I'm the same priority for you, as you are for me."

Now it was her turned to be stunned. Her brow crinkled and she took several deep breaths as she let the truth of his words sink in. He was right. If Henry or David or Mary Margaret's welfare depended on her breaking her word to Hook, she probably wouldn't think twice. But she owed him more than that. She reached down and covered his hand with her own. At the contact his eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked back up at her.

"Hook…" She tried to speak, but found a lump in her throat. She quickly swallowed to try and sooth it before trying again. "Killian… I…" she paused once more. Finally, she said softly, "We've come a long way since I left you on that beanstalk and you left me in that dungeon."

"Aye, we have," he agreed feeling a shiver of electricity at her proximity combined with her gentle touch. She had rarely, if ever, just touched him.

"Back then, for better or worse, we both had our priorities and neither of us was going to let anything, or anyone, get in the way."

Hook nodded once, acknowledging the truth of what she said.

"I'm sorry. I know how far we've come, but I haven't done a very good job of showing it. I've been thinking of you as a partner, but perhaps I sometimes still treat you like a pirate."

His eyes went a bit wide at that. Emma lifted her hand from where it had been pressed to his. He felt cold at the loss of contact. However she instantly held it back out to him as if offering a handshake, her gaze never leaving his.

He studied her curiously before accepting her offered hand.

"Partners?" There was a lilt to her voice as she asked the question and her expression was hopeful.

"I like the sound of that… what does it mean?"

"It means," she paused searching for the words to define it. "It means that we make decisions together, your priority is my priority and vice versa."

"For this journey?"

She thought about that. "Yes, but considering these missions of ours seemed to be necessary at an alarming rate, why don't we consider it an open-ended contract."

"You have yourself a deal, Swan." He squeezed her hand before finally releasing it, but he didn't let his gaze fall from hers.

Emma drew in a stuttered breath at his intense expression. Even though she'd resisted the conversation, she felt infinitely better now that they had cleared the air. However, she still wasn't ready to confront the raw feelings she saw reflected in his eyes. So she quickly rose and walked to the false window. She let her eyes roam over the scene, the pond that was too blue and the sunshine that was too bright.

Hook watched her for a bit before rising and coming to stand beside her. "Mademoiselle North is certainly drawn to cheerful ornamentation."

"Yes. Why do you think these windows aren't real?"

"I believe this is an interior room." Hook replied, before deciding to deviate from the small talk back to the prior conversation. "You know, there's something I've always wanted to ask you."

"We've got nothing but time." Emma responded, sounding calmer then she felt.

"Why did you leave me on the bean stalk?"

That question made her pulse accelerate. She thought about it as she watched a beautiful blue bird soar across the scene in the window. She decided that he'd been honest with her over the last few days, and that he deserved some honesty in return. "Because you scared the hell out of me."

At that he turned from the window in order to face her profile. His brow crinkled and when he spoke his tone was slightly defensive. "I don't believe that. I wasn't menacing towards you. I don't at all believe you were scared I would physically hurt you."

Finally she turned back to him and gave him a faint smile. "That. You could read me. No one's ever been able to do that. Not really. For someone like me that's pretty much the scariest thing of all."

Hook was about to respond but the words died on his lips, because right at that moment the door to the parlor opened.

xxx

Hook and Emma exchanged incredulous glances at the absurdity of the situation. They were seated side-by-side on a sofa in the living room as the witch fiddled with a vintage record player in the corner of the room and David mixed martinis.

"Uh…" Emma crinkled her brow searching for the right thing to say. "How was the ballet?"

"Miraculous," the witch gushed as she finally succeeded in filling the room with classical music. "Don't you just love Tchaikovsky?"

"Sure, of course. You two, are, uh, back earlier than we thought?"

"Oh, well, you know," she winked at them.

Emma didn't know but she decided it would not be fruitful to pursue the subject. "I was hoping that the four of us could sit down and talk," Emma ventured as she accepted a martini from David.

"Of course, dear, I love a good discussion, literature, theater, philosophy. What fun we'll have tonight. But first I must get dinner started." And with that she appeared to glide out of the room.

Emma looked over to Hook and shrugged helplessly, not knowing what to do. He turned his attention to David. "Mate, take a load off."

David walked over and handed him a drink. As he got seated, Hook looked at Emma, and then with a discreet motion he pointed to her pocket which held the memory potion and then glanced at David's martini on the coffee table. She gave one quick nod to indicate she understood.

"So how long have you two been together?" David asked making polite conversation.

Emma's eyes went wide and she began to shake her head, but she was stopped by Hook putting his left arm around her and giving her a squeeze. "Oh, this is quite new. You'll have to forgive us; we're at that stage where we just can't keep our hands off one another. Isn't that right, luv?"

"Young love is nice." David smiled serenely at them.

"So… what ballet did you see again?" Emma asked, trying to discreetly wrestle out of Hook's grasp, but he wasn't letting her go. So she sat back and eyed David's drink; she needed to figure out how to get the potion into it without letting him see. She took a sip of her own drink. She'd watched him mix it; he'd opened a new bottle of vodka so she was pretty sure nothing was amiss.

"Sleeping Beauty."

At that she spit out her drink. A moment later Hook wacked her on the back, trying to cover her reaction. "Alright there, darling?"

"Yes, my apologies. It went down the wrong pipe. So, Sleeping Beauty?"

"Yes. It's a lovely story."

Hook nodded, eyeing him knowingly. "That it is. But alas not my favorite, what do you call them Emma, fairy tales? Not my favorite fairy tale."

David shook his head. "Nor mine, I'm partial to Snow White."

Emma sucked in a breath and then inexplicably choked on it. This got more and more surreal by the minute. Once again, Hook wacked her on the back. "Again, darling, this is becoming epidemic."

She ignored him and looked imploringly at David once her coughing had subsided. "So you're familiar with the story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?"

"Oh yes, who isn't? But I can't say as I like the prince in that story, he's kind of a putz."

"Indeed." Hook nodded, enjoying himself a little too much. "He's definitely a, what did you say, putz." Hook turned to Emma. "Luv, wouldn't you agree?"

She elbowed Hook, hard, and then turned her full attention to David. "David, look at me. Look into my eyes. You are the putz in Snow White's story. You are Prince Charming."

His brow creased. "You're talking crazy. That's just a story. Mother said-"

"She is not your mother! She's a lonely old witch, who thankfully wanted a son and not…" Emma shuddered at the alternative. "Anyway, David, you need to snap out of this. Mary Margaret… Snow White… needs you."

He looked confused, but something passed across his eyes. She saw it.

"David… Dad, please remember me." She pleaded with him, emotion ripe in her voice.

He shook his head, clearly upset. "This doesn't make sense. I want you to stop this. Let's talk about something else."

At that Hook intervened, he'd had enough. "Yes, mate, let's talk about something else. How about a toast?" He handed David his glass and then raised his own. "To… your mother."

David raised his glass. "To mother." And then he drank.

It took only seconds to take effect. As David sat down his glass his eyes went wide and then he jumped to his feet. "Get your arm off of my daughter!" he bellowed at Hook.

And then his face softened. "Emma, you're here?"

"Dad?" Emma's breath hitched as she leapt up into her father's embrace.

Hook sat back on the couch, watching the reunion and smiling, quite pleased with himself.

The hug lasted for quite some time. After a year's separation and the fear he'd never see his daughter again. David didn't want to let her go. Finally, Hook cleared his throat. "Far be it from me to interrupt this family reunion, but we should probably start thinking about how we're getting out of here."

"I'll answer that. You aren't." The witch had spoken.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

David and Emma let go of one another and turned to face her. The witch. However, she was back to smiling. "You can't leave. Dinner is almost ready."

"Mademoiselle North." Emma ventured a step forward. "This is David, he remembers, he knows he's not your son and we need to leave."

"No. No!" Her eyes grew wide and angry. "Not when he just arrived. We were having such fun. I will not be alone. At least one of you is staying here with me. And it's not going to be you!" She pointed at Emma. With that she turned and hurried back to the kitchen.

The three stood in silence for a long moment.

"I'm not staying." David shook his head, still shocked as his mind sorted out the details of the last several days. "I can't stay. I have to get to Snow."

Hook shrugged, getting into the spirit of the absurd situation. "I wouldn't mind staying. She's a good looking woman."

Emma whipped around to look at him. "She's ancient!"

"Who am I to talk, for I'm… well let's not talk numbers, let's just say I've sailed around the world a few times." Hook winked at her.

David interrupted with vehemence. "Would you two be serious? How are we getting out of this? I've been here for awhile, I'm fairly sure if she wants someone to stay, she can keep them here.

Emma held up her hand. "Nobody is staying. She and I are going to have a talk; woman to woman." With that she walked towards the door the witch had disappeared through.

xxx

Hook watched her leave and then sat back down on the sofa. He motioned to David's drink. "Mate, you should finish that. We need the memory potion to last as long as possible so you need to drink all of it."

David nodded and picked up the drink and downed it in one gulp.

"I see you've learned to drink like a pirate since I last saw you."

"I see you're dressing like a native since I last saw you." David looked him up and down. "What's that about?"

"Your daughter thought it necessary."

David nodded once and then from his perch on the chair leaned over and held his hand out to Hook. Hook looked at his hand and then grasped it in a firm handshake.

"You did it," David said simply.

"Aye."

"Thank you. I owe you… everything."

"No, you don't. So far my motives have been quite selfish, but you may, yet."

David crinkled his brow in confusion.

"This place… there's magic here. Which means…" Hook reached around his neck and retrieved the locket he'd been so closely guarding. He looked at it fondly for a moment, before handing it to Emma's father. "This might work from here. It could take you back to your love, as it took me back to mine."

xxx

"Mademoiselle North." Emma's voice was firm, but not unkind.

"Dear, what are you doing in here? No guests in the kitchen." The witch smiled at her and tried to shoo her away.

"No, we're going to have a conversation." Emma gestured to the table. "Please, let's sit down."

"Not now, perhaps after dinner, right now I need to attend to the roast and then I have to check on the vegetables and then I must set the-"

"Mademoiselle, please sit down and listen to me." Emma interrupted and her voice was so firm, so full of confident bravado, the other woman finally heeded her. The witch sat, but eyed Emma suspiciously.

Emma took the seat to her right and she looked kindly at the old woman. "You were right. We're not from here, just like you're not from here. That one out there, the one who thought he was your son. That's my father; he's from the Enchanted Forrest. He's also known as Prince Charming, a nickname given to him by my mother, Snow White. That other man… his name's Killian Jones. But most people know him as Hook, yes Captain Hook. He's a pirate, but he's also a pretty good guy… and a good friend."

She paused to take a deep breath and noticed the witch was listening with rapt attention. "I'm Emma Swan; the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White. But I'm also an orphan. I'd been alone my whole life and had just found my parents when we were once again separated by a terrible curse. Today, in your living room is the first time I've seen my father in a year. And I still haven't seen my mother. You see she's pregnant. I don't even know how I feel about the fact that she's pregnant, other than I know I have to do everything in my power to help my father get to her so he can protect both my mother and the new baby."

"It's the Wicked Witch of the West." The witch said knowingly. "That's whom they need protection from, isn't it?"

"Yes," Emma replied as she eyed the woman keenly. "What did my father tell you before he lost his memory?"

"He was only here for a short time before he forgot who he was. He told me he needed a way to defeat her, but he didn't tell me about you or your mother or any baby. You see, I thought I was doing him a favor, because I couldn't help him, I don't have magic powerful enough to defeat West and she's very dangerous. It was safer for him to stay here."

"That makes sense," Emma said soothingly. "I appreciate you taking care of him while he was… your guest. But we have to leave, and it has to be tonight."

The woman sat silently and just when Emma thought she wasn't going to reply, the witch said, "I will allow you to leave, but on one condition."

Now the old woman had a glint in her eye.

xxx

Emma came out of the kitchen and both David and Hook jumped to their feet. "Well?" they asked in unison.

"We're staying for dinner, but then we'll leave. There's one caveat." She pointed to Hook as she said, "You're helping with dinner."

"What do you mean 'helping with dinner?' What do I know about-"

She cut him off by gesturing back to the door through which she had just entered. "You just have to go in there and be your normal charming self."

"You think I'm charming?" He raised his eyebrow at her and his face spread into a devilish grin.

She once again pointed towards the kitchen and pleaded, "Please, just go entertain her."

"As you wish." He bowed before he started for the kitchen.

"Wait, Killian," Emma called for him to stop, she'd spotted David's empty martini glass and it reminded her of something she was curious about. When he turned back to face her, she motioned to David's empty drink on the table. "Before you go, how did you get the potion out of my pocket? I didn't feel anything."

"Why do you think I had you in such a tight embrace, luv?"

She thought back at her annoyance at him and smiled. "Okay, but the drink. I never saw you put the potion in his drink."

At that he held up his left arm. He'd finally replaced his false hand with his beloved hook. "Still a pirate."

"I was going to do it."

"You are very good at many things, but sleight of hand is my specialty. Don't worry, I'll teach you..." He'd been close to adding an innuendo laced comment about how he'd be happy to teach her all about the things she could do with her hands. But at the sight of her father he stopped. Instead, he settled for winking at her before turning and heading towards the kitchen.

"You two have obviously gotten quite… close." David said matter-of-factly as Emma sat down next to him on the couch.

"Yeah, I guess we have."

"I'm not surprised, even a year ago I knew it was just a matter of time."

"You did? So you were trying to keep me away from him by pushing me towards Neal?"

He smiled at her. "Well that was mostly your mother. But I admit I didn't relish the idea of you spending time with a pirate. But a lot has happened in the last year. And my opinion of Hook has altered greatly from when he first entered our lives."

"I wish I knew something, anything that happened to you all in the last year." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Except I do know that congratulations are in order… you and Mary Margaret, you're having a baby."

"Yes, Emma, we are." David reached over and squeezed his daughter's hand. "But you know, don't you, that even though we didn't get much of a chance for you to be my little girl, you're always going to be my little girl."

Emma felt heat rise behind her eyes and she blinked rapidly several times to try and stem the tears. She nodded quickly and then stopped suddenly, realizing for the first time that she did know. She was irrevocably part of a family, nothing could change that now. "I know… Dad."

"I have to go find your mother. She's pregnant and alone. And you…" He put his hand on her knee. "Well you're in good hands. Or should I say hand."

That made her crack a small smile as she swatted his knee. "That's a terrible joke."

"I know, especially since he gave me this." David handed the locket to her.

"This locket." Emma swallowed. It was the locket she'd assumed he was so attached to because it belonged to Milah. "What's the significance? He's refused to take it off since he found me in New York."

"Open it."

Emma fumbled with the clasp until it finally sprang open. In it she found two small drawings done in what looked like charcoal. One was definitely her. The other was her son.

"What's this?" Her breathing was shallow.

"It's how he came back for you."

She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Tell me."

xxx

**THREE MONTHS EARLIER**

Hook stood against the wall of the castle throne room, while all the key players discussed what was going to be done with the intelligence he'd just brought them. He was humoring them, because if truth be told, none of them really had a say.

When the curse returned them to the Enchanted Forest the first thing everyone was concerned about was survival. They'd found shelter and then food and water. Soon, on Regina's suggestion, they'd found their way to the Summer Palace, one of the few royal enclaves untouched by the first curse's devastation. But as soon as everyone was safe and their immediate needs met, many of their number started settling in as if this was what their life was now. That didn't work for Hook. Without her, he felt desolate, this was not his home.

One day not long after they'd been deposited in the Enchanted Forrest, he'd been sitting around the fire with several of the dwarfs, drowning his sorrows and lamenting his situation, when one of them—possibly Sneezy—mentioned that it was too bad that the enchanted locket didn't really exist.

That was all it had taken, from that moment on he'd been a man on a mission.

Some might be surprised to know how bookish Hook was, but really, what else is there to do whilst at sea? So, once they made it to the Summer Palace, he sequestered himself in the library. He poured over books, scoured diaries, and unfurled scroll after dusty scroll looking for any mention of an enchanted locket. And he found one. He'd found mention of an enchanted locket that allowed the wearer to jump realms. It would transport the wearer to whomever's likeness was immortalized inside the locket. As he looked for more evidence of the locket, he realized that in his travels he'd been to some of the places where tale of it had been told, and that was at least a trail he could follow.

So one day, a month or two after they'd arrived, he'd approached David with what he knew. And later that evening he was off, riding one of the prince's horses, both men agreeing to keep his journey quiet. Neither wanting to give anyone false hope, should he fail in his quest for the magical locket that could potentially take its wearer back to the Land Without Magic and to the two who were left behind. But he hadn't failed. After many months of false starts, false stories, and false hope, he'd finally found what he was looking for in a tiny fishing village he'd been to during his time as a sailor.

So now here he was. Watching Regina, Snow, David, Neal, Grumpy, Robin and Belle discuss what was to be done with the locket. Things had changed since he'd left on his quest for the locket, and not for the better. A new evil was present and a new curse was brewing, and if he had followed the rather jumbled conversation up until now, one that would resurrect Storybrooke but in a way that struck fear into everyone's hearts."

"I should go." Regina spoke definitively. "He's my son. I should be the one to find him."

"He's my son, too, Regina." Neal interjected hotly. "And Emma is my…"

"You're what? Baby mama? That hardly qualifies you to find her; especially since you haven't exhibited the requisite attention span for such a task in the past." Regina replied swiftly. Hook smiled inwardly at Regina's response.

A pregnant Snow shook her head sadly before speaking. "Regina you know with the current situation you can't leave. You are our best, perhaps our only line of defense against her. Without you I'm not sure we would have withstood her first attack. And we know she's planning something bigger, something much worse."

Regina grimaced, but nodded. "Yes, a new curse." She knew Snow was right, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "That doesn't signify, I can go and be back in less than a week."

"But it does signify, _your highness_." Hook injected the title with a heavy dose of sarcasm as he pushed himself off the wall. "The locket, right now, is enchanted to work as a portal from the village where I found it. A remnant of a journey not taken and something I, unfortunately, didn't know until I brought it back here. It's a fortnight's journey just to get there, and that's if everything goes well. Trust me, it won't. Plus, how do you plan on getting Emma to trust you enough to believe the ridiculous story. Your past doesn't give you a lot of underlying good will with her."

"Simple." She motioned to Belle, who had been experimenting with potions as a way to find Rumple. "With her help I'll brew a memory potion. Slip it into Emma's drink and voila! Both Emma and my son's memories will be restored."

Snow turned to David, one hand on her round stomach. "It should be you, I'll be fine here."

David brought his hand to rest over hers on her stomach. "No, I'm not leaving you."

Snow shook her head in frustration. "You know I wasn't in favor of this, of disrupting their lives. I wish it wasn't necessary. As desperately as I want to see both of them again, I hate that we must find them for selfish reasons."

"Our daughter would want to help. If it was up to her, she never would've left to begin with."

Snow swallowed hard, but steeled her gaze with determination. "Then you must go."

"No." He shook his head with finality before kneeling down next to her and speaking softly. "Not only do I need to stay here with you and protect our kingdom, but I'm also certain that I'm not the best person for the job."

At that Neal stepped forward. "Then it must be me. I'm the only one who knew her before her memories were altered. I'm the only one she'll know."

Hook had finally had enough; he walked to the center of the room. "That's precisely why it shouldn't be you. All Emma's going to remember is the fact you left her, pregnant and alone, never to be heard from again. Why would she believe anything you have to say?"

"And you think you'd have better luck?" Neal challenged. "You knew her for how long? Several months? I've known her for years."

"Yes, I think I'll have better luck. Relationships aren't necessarily about a length of time, they're about experiences and the connection formed. I assure you Emma and I formed quite the connection." Hook smirked at his romantic rival, making sure his meaning was driven home.

"Yes, pirate, we all know how you feel about her. Doesn't mean she feels the same way about you. Or even trusts you."

"What would you know about trust?" Hook asked, a bit of fire in his voice. "The first thing I ever told Emma was a lie. She saw through me and since that moment, she and I, well we understand one another. Yes, I think I can convince her of the legitimacy of my claims." He turned to Regina. "Especially with a little help from your memory potion."

Neal reacted immediately to that argument. "If I had the memory potion then we're in the same boat. So really it's just a question of getting there."

"I think with my centuries-long quest to bring your father to justice for your mother's murder that I've proven I don't get easily distracted."

Neal snorted in disgust at that argument. "It took you centuries and you ultimately failed, so not a great track record. We're talking about my son and the woman I…" He hesitated for a moment trying to find the right word.

Hook's arm shot up to point directly at him. "That... right there, that hesitation. I don't ever hesitate when it comes to my feelings for her. I love Emma. And I will find her, just as I spent months finding the locket that will be my passage to her. I will go. I will find them, I will make her remember me and I will bring them back."

David looked at Snow. "See, I told you I wasn't the best person for the job." Snow's eyes were wide as she studied Hook, impressed with his speech, impressed with the man, perhaps seeing him in a different light for the first time. David crossed over to Neal and put a hand on his shoulder. "Neal, I know you want to be the one, but this has been Hook's quest. And no disrespect to you, but I believe he's the man who, in his heart, wants to find her the most. He found the locket and no matter how much you dislike it you must admit that there is no doubt that he will succeed or die trying."

Neal took a deep breath as the truth of what David said settled over him. A sneer marred his face as he turned and took several steps until he was in front of Hook. Silence settled over the room as everyone waited with baited breath, afraid of an altercation between the rivals. Instead Neal just stuck out his hand. Hook paused for a moment before accepting the hand shake. Neal looked him in the eye before uttering a sincere, "Good luck."

"Thanks, Bae." Hook sighed as the tension from moments earlier flowed out of him. They all knew what an enemy looked like; neither man was the other's true enemy.

Belle rushed to Neal's side. "I didn't want to say anything, if you needed to go. But I'm glad you're staying, I need you. We are so close to locating Rumple."

David nodded in agreement. "Yes, the evidence you've found that he survived is strong. If we're going to defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, we're going to need Regina, Emma and your father. Finding him must be a priority."

xxx

The party to see Hook off was supposed to be nonexistent; his journey was to be top secret lest the Wicked Witch find out what he was up to. It was paramount that she remained ignorant of the savior's existence. Only the principals, who had been in the throne room that day, knew about it. It was David's job to discretely escort Hook from the castle, however that proved difficult as each of the key players were present as they tried to leave.

In a rush, Snow opened her heart to him and told him as much about Emma's early life as she knew. She wanted to arm him with everything possible to convince her daughter of the truth. Then she gave him a hug and asked him to pass it on to her daughter and grandson.

With a mix of disdain and respect, Neal eyed him appraisingly before offering his hand one more time. "Bring them home, pirate."

Hook met his eye and nodded, accepting the charge.

Belle stood in front of him for a long moment before saying, "Captain."

"Milady." He inclined slightly as if to bow.

"I once told you your heart was rotten; I must now beg your pardon, because I can see that your heart is true. I sincerely wish you luck on your journey."

"No, it is I who must beg your pardon for the sins I have committed against you in the name of revenge." This time he executed a full bow. "Humbly, I ask for your forgiveness."

She had simply replied, "I'm beginning to believe it will take the savior to restore Rumple. So, succeed in finding her and my forgiveness you shall have."

Regina rolled her eyes before stepping forward. "Really, you all are doing this now? Tick, tock, Hook, my son is waiting." Next she pressed the purple vial into his hand. "Make sure they both drink this. They won't need much, a swallow should do it."

Robin gave Regina a curious glance but then stepped forward to offer his hand to Hook. As Hook hastily pocketed the potion and took the other man's hand, Robin gave him a conspiratorial wink. "You know I was quite impressed with the passion you displayed convincing us all it should be you to set off to find this Emma of yours. Perhaps the potion is unnecessary; instead true love's kiss might provide… the immediate gratification you seek."

At this Hook looked thoughtfully at Robin before smiling and shaking his hand heartily. "Thanks, mate." True love's kiss, would it work between them? He wasn't sure, but perhaps it would be worth a try.

David shot Hook a sideways glance before warning the other man, "I can see what you're thinking. Don't. It's not going to work."

Hook raised an eyebrow at David. "Do you doubt my feelings or hers? Or are you just exercising your right as an over protective father?"

"Fine." David chuckled to himself as he muttered, "I guess that's one we all have to find out the hard way."

David and Hook began to walk on, but when they'd put a length of corridor between them and the others they heard Regina call out. When she caught up to them, she spoke in a low tone, even though they were now some distance from the others. "I don't think I'm going to stop this curse. I may be able to amend it, but not stop it. So when you find them, bring them to Storybrooke."

Hook furrowed his brow. "Are you sure?" His usual innuendo laden tone was gone, filled instead with very real concern.

"Yes, if the town's not there, turn back the way you came. If it's there, but I've deemed it not safe, I'll leave a sign for you on the road into town."

"What kind of sign?" His voice held a mix of alarm and curiosity.

"You'll know it when you see it. Trust me it will be obvious."

He seemed to accept this and started walking once again before remembering the most important question. "Regina, wait." She turned back to him. "You told me you might be able to give me some idea of where she might be."

"Where she, and my son, might be." Regina corrected, not wanting Hook to forget about her top priority while he was seeking his.

"Of course, where they might be."

"Yes, I told you before; you should expect to arrive in New York City."

"Thank you, but as I remember, it's quite a metropolis, can you be more specific?"

She shook her head with genuine regret. "I'm sorry, I can't."

With resignation, Hook accepted that as just one of the additional challenges of his journey. Once again David and Hook continued on their way to the stables where Grumpy was saddling his horse. Once arrived, David was silent as Hook and Grumpy attended to the last necessary details before the journey. Just as Hook was about to mount his horse, David finally spoke.

"Jones." Hook started at David's use of his given name. No one had called him that for a very long time. "I know your feelings for my daughter have changed you. That you are a different man from the one who first came to Storybrooke bent on revenge, willing to use any means necessary to achieve your goal."

Hook wasn't sure where David was going with this speech so he replied with a simple, "Aye."

"I want you to know that I see that. I see that you've changed. And if I didn't think you were worthy of her, I wouldn't have endorse you. I think you and I both knew- even before you found the locket- that it was always going to be you who went for her."

Hook studied him thoughtfully. They'd seemed to have reached an accord while in the Enchanted Forrest and he had no wish to offend or blatantly challenge the authority of Emma's father. However, he also wanted to make himself plain. "You also know as well as I do that you would have had to pry the locket from my cold, dead hand in order for anyone else to use it."

To Hook's relief, David actually chuckled at that. "Yes, I believe that's true. It's one of the reasons you're the best man for this job." It was easy to see the fire burning deep within both men. One, a man on a singular mission, driven by love; and the other a hero, now a leader, set on protecting his people, and most especially his family. "On this journey you're about to embark on…" he paused for a moment as he figured out what he wanted to say. "My wife would tell you to remember who you've become… an honorable man. But I'm not going to do that. I'm going to ask that you remember who you were."

"Who I was…" Hook let the question hang in the air, not exactly sure what David was telling him.

David spoke emphatically. "If you need to be Captain Hook to get my daughter and grandson back, then be Captain Hook. Just go get her. Any means necessary."

Hook looked him in the eye and held out his hand. As David accepted the handshake, Hook repeated his entreaty, "Any means necessary."

xxx

Emma had listened in rapt attention as her father told her of the events that led to Hook's departure from the Enchanted Forrest. As she did some things started clicking into place, how he'd known details from her past, his examination of the landscape at the town line, Belle's statement of forgiveness at Regina's, but there was one bit that had jumped out more than the rest.

"I'd forgotten or I think I was too busy trying to sort through the memories that I'd lost that I didn't focus on what had happened recently." Emma squinted as if trying to see something in the not too distant past. "True love's kiss, the first thing he tried to do was kiss me."

"And what did you do?" David asked cautiously.

"Kneed him in the groin."

"Good girl." David chuckled ruefully. "I'm sorry, Emma, I should have tried harder to talk him out of it. I just knew from experience that a man in that state doesn't want to hear that it's not going to work. He hopes that if he believes his love is true that it will work."

"Oh."

"What is it?"

"So you knew it wasn't going to work?"

"Of course."

"Because we're not true loves." Emma said it matter-of-factly. She wasn't sure she really believed in the concept, at least as to how it related to her and romantic love, but still it was a bit disappointing. She thought she was starting to feel… something.

"No. Well, I don't know. But it wouldn't have worked either way because you had no memories. It happened with me and your mother. She'd lost her memory of me and I tried to kiss her." He grinned in spite of himself. "It didn't work. She, let's just say she reacted similarly."

"She did?" Emma turned that over in her mind as she tried to come to terms with Hook's action. She turned to her father and asked, "So he… thinks I'm his true love? He loves me?"

"It appears so." David nodded slowly before chuckling, "Hook's feelings for you are a pretty open secret back in the Enchanted Forest." He looked at his daughter appraisingly. "And you?"

A look of confusion passed across Emma's face, until she looked into David's eyes and realized what he was asking her. Her pulse quickened and her mind was in a whir. "I… I don't know."

"When you're ready you'll figure it out," David replied knowingly. "Now, seriously Emma, will you be alright if I leave tonight to find your mother? Please know that I hate that we've just been reunited and I have to leave you again."

"I'll be fine," she replied. At his questioning glance she laid her hand over his and squeezed reassuringly. For one of the first times in her life, someone was leaving her, but she wasn't being abandoned and she wasn't going to be alone. What the Wicked Witch had in store for her notwithstanding, she would be fine.

"Really, I promise." She gestured to the locket Hook had given to him. "Do you know how to make that work?"

"Yes, we need a likeness of your mother, which I have if you can get my wallet back from Mademoiselle North."

"I can do that," Emma assured him.

"We also need a little magic."

"I can ask her, I think she's will-"

But David interrupted her. "Not the witch. You. You can do it."

Emma shook her head quickly. "No, no this is too important. You have to get back to Mary Marg…" she stopped herself. She had to embrace the fact that Mary Margaret was her mother at some point. "You have to get back to mom. She's pregnant and alone. I know what that feels like. You need to get back there as soon as possible."

"Yes." David nodded. "But Emma, you can do it. I believe in you."

Emma felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards. It felt good to be believed in, maybe she could do it.

Just then Hook emerged from the kitchen. "Mate, I don't know how you've done it for the last few days. That woman is relentlessly cheery; I don't think I have any more charm left in me…" The words died on his lips as he noticed the way Emma was looking at him, the way her eyes were drilling through him. "What?"

David looked between them, first at his daughter, gazing with wonder at the pirate and then at Hook, studying her curiously. David cleared his throat and stood. "I've been told I have charm to spare, so how about I relieve you for a bit?" On that note he hastily retreated to the kitchen.

"Emma, what's wrong?" Hook asked apprehensively.

But she didn't answer. When he'd emerged from the kitchen it had hit her like a tidal wave. She felt her heart swell and fill her chest to capacity. This man had travelled realms for her. He'd spent an entire year focused on nothing but getting back to her. He'd roamed all over the Enchanted Forest for her. He had tried true love's kiss on her. He loved her.

It was overwhelming. She stood and with intensity burning in her eyes walked purposely towards him. The question in his eyes only grew stronger as she grew near and before he knew what was happening she launched herself at him. Her arms snaked around his neck, her body came flush against his and before he could react their lips met.

Instinctively, he caught her and pulled her tightly to him. Having her in his arms felt like home and it only took a second for him to respond to her lips on his. He opened to her and once the kiss started, it grew passionate almost immediately. Their mouths moved greedily against one another, tongues dueling hungrily, breaths coming opportunistically in short pants when the parting of their lips allowed.

Was this really happening? Was Emma really and truly kissing him? Allowing him to kiss her? He had waited so long and traveled so far for this moment. She was warm and soft and pliable in his arms and he wanted more, but he also wanted to savor this moment, savor her. He slowed it down, pulling his lips from hers for several beats, before unhurriedly recapturing her mouth in kiss after soft kiss, taking time to finish each one before beginning another.

As the movement of their lips became less feverish and something gentler and much deeper, she could feel the blood rush through her veins, every nerve ending tingled and something fluttered in her stomach and flipped over. And that's when Emma returned to earth. Because that feeling, that physical reaction, as good as it felt, meant she was getting in deep. And Emma Swan couldn't get in deep.

She was less than two days from having a year-long curse on her lifted. She had no business contemplating starting anything that had to do with romance, a relationship or even sex. And even though they had successfully rescued David, they still needed to stay focused. The threat to Storybrooke was far from over. Plus he was a pirate and she was the savior. Neither of those two things really lent themselves to a romantic entanglement.

So she released him and took a step back.

Sensing the change in her, he immediately looked bereft. "Emma…" he whispered.

Sadly she shook her head, before uttering a breathless, "I can't."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. It's much appreciated! I hope you enjoy this final installment!_

CHAPTER 7

"You can and you did," Hook replied hoarsely, feeling suddenly cold at the loss of contact.

She wouldn't look at him, she was staring somewhere between the second and third button on his shirt, trying to pull herself together. "I… I just can't," she repeated.

"What was that then?" he queried, trying to make sense of the last five minutes. "You kissed me."

For a drawn out moment she didn't answer. She couldn't answer. Still trying to catch her breath she finally looked up into his eyes. "I know I did. Thank you."

"What?" his voice held confusion. "Thank you? What does that mean?"

"It means… it means thank you. David told me some of what happened the last year and I appreciate everything you've done for me so… thank you."

He furrowed his brow. "So that was another thank you kiss."

"Yes," she replied. When she saw his face fall she quickly murmured, "I'm sorry. I… uh… I didn't think it through before I did it."

"So we're back to a one-time thing… or should I now say two-time thing?"

"I'm not saying this was a one-time thing, I'm saying I can't right now. There's too much going on and I don't get a break and I can't lose focus. Tomorrow we go back to deal with the Wicked Witch, I can't start something right now."

"Emma, it's already started. Trust me on that."

"Well then we have to stop it. We just need to get back to Storybrooke, make sure Henry's okay, defeat the Wicked Witch of the West, and find a way back to my parents. Then who knows."

"Oh… is that all we have to do?" Hook eyed her incredulously, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry." Her expression was now stoic, but if one looked closely a hint of the loss she felt was betrayed in her eyes. "I've… got to check on David." She knew her resolve would melt if she stayed much longer so she made an excuse and left.

Hook brought his right hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched her escape into for the kitchen.

xxx

The witch's dining room was painted a bright, almost neon, shade of violet and trimmed in a light powder blue. The room was of good size, but irregular shape. The table was smaller than the room could accommodate; a square made of heavy dark wood that fit four dinners perfectly. It was set with an elaborate array of violet and blue linens, white china and silver. Dozens of candles lit the room, in sconces, on tables and hanging in a large chandelier.

However the grand and garish surroundings did little to capture the attention of the guests. Dinner was rife with tension, but thankfully not the angry kind. As the meal began, Emma and Hook were both endeavoring not to look at one another. For her part, Emma was quiet, lost in thought. Hook was certain he might combust at any moment, but he was also quite hungry so he was happy to focus on eating his dinner. And David was antsy; anxious to secure the witch's cooperation.

The witch didn't seem to notice the variant moods at her table. She'd changed into an elaborate white gown that glimmered in the candle light and wore an irrepressible smile as she beamed at her guests. "Isn't this delightful? Rare is the occasion that I have to throw a dinner party." She held out her heavy silver goblet filled with wine. "To my guests!"

Her three guests dutifully held out their goblets in tribute, before they each took a sip of their wine.

"So…" Mademoiselle North looked around at her guests as they began eating. "What shall we talk of? Emma you've been living in New York, tell me have you been to the New York City Ballet? What about the Met? I love opera!"

When she heard her name, Emma looked up with a crinkled brow. She hadn't been concentrating on the conversation. "I… uh… no. I haven't been to either."

"Tsk, a pity to waste the opportunity while living in a city with such art and culture."

Emma was prevented the necessity of responding when David stepped in and tried to change the subject. "Mademoiselle, the locket I mentioned before… can we talk of it?" He held it out for her to inspect.

"Ahhhh. Yes, I've heard of the enchanted locket." She looked searchingly at him. "Where did you find this?"

"I didn't. He did." David motioned to Hook.

The witch turned to Hook. "This has been lost for centuries, so long that most believe its existence to be a myth. How did it come into your possession?"

"I was…" he looked pointedly over at Emma before finishing, "Motivated."

At that Emma looked up from her plate and met his eye. The look of burning intensity she saw there made her drop her fork. Quickly she ripped her eyes from his and concentrated once again on her meal.

"You had to have been. Something this valuable… I suspect parting it from its owner would not be an easy task. Did you buy it?"

"I'm a pirate, I took it." His voice had a chilly, unemotional quality to it that Emma hadn't heard there for some time. She knew she'd put it there and winced.

The witch raised an eyebrow at him in question.

Hook shrugged at her. "Plunder and pillage."

The witch looked him over and then a wry smile stole across her lips. "Nice try, but by legend it will only work if the wearer's motives and methods are pure."

"I'm a pirate, there's nothing pure about me."

"You are adorable, do you know that? 'Argh, I'm a pirate.'" She mimicked before reaching over and pinching his cheek. "I've heard of you, you know."

"Have you now? And what have you heard?" Hook asked her with a tone that now bordered on flirty. That got Emma to look up from her food. David was also listening intently, waiting for an opportunity to turn the conversation back to actually using the locket.

"You're a supposedly fearsome pirate captain with a hook for a hand."

He held up his hook, "You could probably tell that from just looking at me, no legend necessary."

"The hook, yes, but other than that you don't look fearsome or like a pirate; you look like my accountant, Henri."

"You have an accountant?" Emma couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Of course, I must have banking accommodation. I may not welcome visitors here, but I do venture out from time to time."

At that David interjected trying to steer the conversation back on course. "Speaking of venturing… the locket."

"What about it, dear?" The witch's expression softened as she looked back to David.

But it was Emma who spoke. "You said the wearer's motives must be pure. My father's motives are certainly that. Can he use this to get back to my mother in the Enchanted Forrest?"

The witch dangled the locket from one hand. As it unfurled and spun around she smiled serenely over at Emma. "From here, where there's magic, it's possible, but the locket needs to be enchanted."

Hook, once again using a flirty tone, leaned over to address the witch. "Will you enchant it for us, luv?"

Mademoiselle North looked at him with a dreamy expression. "I could… but I'm so much enjoying our time together here and I hate for it to end. Perhaps tomorrow…"

David didn't look concerned at this put off; instead he immediately motioned to Emma. "Emma has magic, she can do it."

At that Mademoiselle North emitted a delicate but derisive laugh. "She does have magic, but it's raw and at the moment I'm not sure what's wrong with her, but she's in no state to focus. If she tries, there's no telling where you'd end up. Stuck between realms, I'd guess."

At that Emma sagged in her chair, she was admittedly distracted, and if David couldn't get back to Mary Margaret because of her inability to stay focused she would never forgive herself. Killian saw her deflate. He reached over and put his hand over hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. She looked at him and he met her eye with a small supportive nod. At that she straightened up and transferred her gaze to the witch. In a firm, but beseeching tone, she said, "Mademoiselle North, please… David needs to get to my mother. She's pregnant and alone. If he doesn't reach her before the baby comes, I don't know what will happen… will you help us?" And then she added for good measure, "Tonight?"

David, Emma and Hook all held their breath as they waited for the witch to answer. Finally, with a pensive smile she relented and reached over to pat Emma's arm. "Not to worry, dear, we can do it together."

xxx

It was just past twilight when they gathered in Mademoiselle North's garden next to a large weepy tree of indeterminate species. To Emma it looked like a cross between a weeping willow and a palm tree. It was strange, but Emma didn't have the time or inclination to study it closely or wonder about its origin.

Mademoiselle North and Emma stood opposite each other under broad drooping branches while the two men were on either side, forming a square. As Emma slipped the charcoal drawings of herself and Henry out of the locket, she spared a sideways glance at Killian.

His eyes didn't waver from the locket. He'd spent so long searching for it, it felt strange to simply sit back and watch it leave his possession. There was a time that the pirate in him wouldn't have so easily relinquished such a treasure. To let go of something so valuable would have required a steep price, but then he let his eyes drift to Emma. The locket had served its purpose. Whether she wanted him or not, she was more valuable than any treasure and it was important to her that her parents reunite. So he would aid in that objective. But he wasn't only doing it for Emma. He was doing it for David, who against all odds had become the closest thing he'd had to a mate in a very long time. And for the unborn child who would need his or her father and for Snow; even though he knew he wasn't her favorite person.

David slipped the likeness of Snow into the locket and handed it back to Emma. Mademoiselle North instructed Emma to hold it out in front of her and she obeyed. "Concentrate, dear," the witch said soothingly as she held her own hands out and over Emma's. Both women were closing their eyes and when their hands touched there was a blinding white flash of light and all four of them shifted as they steadied themselves against the wave of energy that washed over them.

A moment later the witch opened her eyes. "That should do the trick. I will say goodbye to you now." But before leaving she took a step towards Emma. Once in front of her she lightly brought a hand to each side of her face and gently pulled her head towards her. The good witch pressed a healing kiss to her forehead.

She next turned to Hook and saw him exchange a quizzical glance with David. In answer to his look, she said, "I may not have powerful enough magic to defeat West, but I am powerful enough to grant some protection to each of you. It will be very hard for her to curse you now."

At that Hook bowed slightly in acquiescence. He allowed her to approach and kiss his forehead as she had done to Emma. When she was finished and he'd stood upright again she uttered, "Hmm. Those eyes, are you sure you don't want to stay the night?"

Emma's eyes went wide at the suggestion. But Hook just shot the witch a wicked grin and winked at her. "Not this time."

"Your loss," the witch sighed as she next turned to David. "Ah, my surrogate son, be safe on your journey back to your loved ones." She then reached over and into the pocket of Emma's leather jacket. With deft fingers she retrieved the small charcoal drawings of Emma and Henry. Next she lifted open David's jacket and tucked them safely into an inside pocket. "You keep these. That way all you need to do is find a little magic and maybe, just maybe, you and your Snow White and your new child, will be able to reunite with your very tenacious daughter here."

"Really?" David perked up immediately. "Is that possible? To transport more than one person?"

She affirmed, "If it's properly enchanted." She then reached up and gently pulled him down so she could bestow her kiss of protection on him. "Now I really will leave you. Safe travels and once you rid yourselves of that nasty woman you come back and see me some time."

As Mademoiselle North made her way to the house, David immediately went to Emma and pulled her into a bear hug. With his eyes pressed tightly closed he whispered, "You heard what she said. I will see you soon, Emma. I love you."

Emma swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "I… uh… love you, too. And tell… mom, the same and that I can't wait to meet the new baby." Emma knew that if everything was okay with Snow as they hoped, she might be worrying about Emma's reaction to her pregnancy. The least Emma could do was relieve her mind on that head.

"I will." David finally released Emma and then turned to Hook. He extended his hand once again. Hook accepted the handshake as David said, "Thank you."

Hook inclined his head slightly. "You're welcome."

David's gaze drilled into him and with imploring eyes, he said, "Stick together, will you?" He glanced over at Emma. David had thought better of asking Hook to take care of her; he knew his daughter would bristle at that and maybe rightly so. But he also knew that Hook would know what he was asking. "I'll worry less if I know you've got each other's backs."

"I have no plans to leave Emma's side." Hook reassured him. "We're partners, isn't that right, luv?"

Emma furrowed her brow slightly. Surprised that he was still devoted to the cause even though she'd made it plain that nothing romantic could happen in the near future. "That's right. Partners."

Satisfied David took the locket from Emma. "I will see you both soon. Stay safe." With that he put the locket around his neck and with a whoosh he was gone.

Killian studied Emma as she stared at the spot where her father had disappeared. With a quiet voice he asked, "Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly, but swallowed hard. "Yeah, I… just wish..." Emma tried to find the words, but failed.

However, he knew what she was trying to say. "You heard him, they'll be back."

Her eyes shot to his, seeking his reassurance. "You think so?"

"I do. They're not going to leave you in the company of a devilishly handsome pirate for long." Now he smirked at her and the twinkle had returned to his eyes. "You've displayed impressive power of will, luv, but that's not going to last forever. You will succumb to my charms eventually."

Despite herself that brought a slight curl to Emma's lips. "You're oddly confident for a guy I just said no to."

"You also kissed me." He stated matter-of-factly and then took a step towards her. "You like me, Emma Swan." Her eyes went wide at that, but she didn't drop them from his. After several beats, he added smoothly, "But now I think it's time for us to leave this place. Shall we?" He swept his arm towards the car.

She nodded, relieved not to answer, and grateful for once for his bold and forthright style. With a few words he'd been able to prick the tension that had been building between them since the kiss. They made their way to the intrepid yellow bug and with no more ado, left behind the small and strange oasis of magic they'd found.

xxx

The journey back to the small Vermont town- and the inn and where they still had a room for the night- was uneventful. They stopped once for coffee and gas, but other than that they made quick time back to the border. The drive was mostly quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Each of them was lost in thought, replaying the events of the day and wondering what the coming days would bring.

xxx

When Emma had packed for the journey she'd been dismayed to realize she only owned plaid pajamas. Apparently, Regina's doing. Now she wore the same plaid pajamas she'd worn the day he'd first knocked on her door in New York. Emma had peeled back the comforter on the large and comfy bed and was now sitting with her back against the headboard, knees curled to her chest.

One of the first things Emma had done upon returning to the inn was to turn off the alarm clock. While she was anxious to get back to Henry she knew that both she and Killian would be much more useful if they got a full night's sleep.

She was spent; the day had been both mentally and physically exhausting. She couldn't believe how much had happened. But right now all she could think about was the man getting undressed on the other side of the bathroom door. She quickly chastised herself for that, though, because she'd made a decision. The timing was not right. She had to focus, she didn't need distractions. No matter how tempting the distraction. She sighed deeply and felt a wave of melancholy wash over her. Was being the savior always going to cost so much?

A few minutes later Killian exited the bathroom only wearing one-half of the garments she'd purchased for him to sleep in. He was wearing the athletic pants, but on top he was still wearing the blue shirt.

"I need help," he said matter-of-factly gesturing to the buttons of the shirt before coming over to the bed and sitting tentatively down on it.

Sitting up, Emma scooted over to the edge of the bed. Without meeting his eye, she began fumbling with the buttons, trying to release them quickly, being careful not to touch him. Even though she was successful in not touching him, his nearness sent a wave of electric energy coursing through her, prickling along her skin. She swallowed hard and tried not to think about their kiss earlier. Because that just reminded her of all the things she was missing.

When she had finished, his shirt hung open as it had that morning. He didn't move from where he sat on the side of her bed as he quickly shrugged out of it. Emma averted her eyes, knowing the danger and temptation that lay in that direction. However, she could still feel him, feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"You know, you probably could have managed," she realized too late. "It's much easier to undo the buttons with one hand than it is to fasten them."

Once he'd stretched the black T-shirt over his head and pulled it down his torso, he chuckled lightly. "You don't say? Well, I assure you your assistance was invaluable. Perhaps I'll keep you around as a valet."

When that didn't elicit the expected response, or any response from her, he studied her thoughtfully for a moment. She looked sad. Many emotions had assailed both of them over the last several days, but sadness hadn't really played a role. And it didn't necessarily make sense; they had succeeded in finding her father and assisting him back to her mother. In fact, one might say that the day had been rife with victories. He asked tentatively, "What's wrong, Emma?"

"Nothing." She shook her head and finally looking back up at him. That's when she noticed his left arm in the short-sleeved T-shirt. His brace was off and the rough skin around his severed forearm was exposed. Without hesitation she reached out and touched where his missing hand should be.

He resisted an urge to pull away and was glad; the panicked feeling left as quickly as it had come. Part of him feared her repulsion, but he saw none of that in her expression.

She lifted her eyes to his. "Does it ever hurt?"

"Sometimes, but I don't have much feeling until just below my elbow."

Emma ran her light touch up his arm until she heard his breathing change. She squeezed lightly.

"I can feel that," he replied to her questioning look.

"So you don't sleep in your hook? I kinda pictured you…"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You pictured me sleeping? Good to know."

Her expression was nonplussed so he relented, "It depends on how secure my surroundings are. Rare is the night when I feel it's unnecessary."

"But you feel safe here."

"Well," he smirked at her, "I've got you to protect me."

Unfortunately his joke only served to remind her. She was the savior. She had to protect everyone. Unconsciously, she crossed her arms over her chest and a cloud passed over her eyes.

He saw her change, saw her withdraw. "Emma, are you sure nothing's wrong, you seem…"

Emma quickly shook her head. "Just tired it's been a long day."

"That it has been. We succeeded you know, we found your father, saved him and helped send him back to your mother. All reasons for celebration."

"Yes," she gave him a small but sincere smile. "Thank you, for all your help. I'm… I'm just thinking about tomorrow. You know it's never going to end, right?" But her words were only partially true. Her sudden malaise was really about what she was giving up. Who she was giving up so that she could be everyone's savior, it wasn't easy.

"Aye, but tonight we won."

It was true. They had achieved every one of their goals. They made a good team. And it dawned on her that the moments over the last few days when she'd most lost focus, when she was most distracted, were moments when they were not in accord. Perhaps not being with him was worse for her role as Savior than being with him. The thought struck her dumb.

When it became clear she wasn't going to say anything more, he unexpectedly leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. She squeezed her eyes closed at the soft pressure. A sensation of warmth spread through her and her heart lifted. She couldn't remember ever feeling this way… and then she realized what the feeling was.

She felt loved. Emma Swan, orphan, felt loved.

And as she opened her eyes and saw him rise to his feet, she realized it was similar to what she'd felt earlier that evening in the witch's living room. Her heart expanded in her chest, threatening her ability to take in oxygen. Breathlessly, she asked, "What was that for?"

"If the witch thinks it gives protection, it's worth a try. I just… you… being safe… is the most important thing to me." He looked down at her with one last small smile and then crossed the room to the sofa. "Sleep well, Emma."

Her safety was the most important thing to him. And she knew it as truth, proven by his actions and words. To Killian Jones, Emma Swan was the most important thing in the world. She believed it and as she watched him go, she made another realization. Something else felt different, something was new that hadn't been there before. And then it hit her. She was looking at him as a person. She was thinking of him as a person; thinking of him as a man. Not just as a larger-than-life villain or a realm-jumping hero or a dangerously sexy pirate or as a character from an oft told fairytale. And while it had been coming on gradually over the course of their relationship, the realization was brand new.

Maybe it was aided by his new clothes, or some of the ordinary things they'd done together over the last few days- she flashed back to them laughing at dinner and having a real heart-felt conversation while locked in the parlor- or the fact that she had been trying to force herself, sometimes unsuccessfully, to think of him as Killian. Or maybe it was all of those things combined with the way she'd come to utterly trust and rely on him.

She remembered that before the curse she had been very aware of how he felt about her. And she also remembered thinking about him, wondering about how, if he indeed succeeded in winning her heart, how a relationship with him might work. At the time she could easily picture them going on romantic adventures and solving problems together. And the physical relationship, that had been almost painfully easy for her to picture. No, that wasn't the problem. It was the rest. Back then she couldn't conjure an image of what a relationship with him might be outside of adventure and sex. But right at this moment, for the first time, she could picture all of it with him.

The revelation shook her to her core. She watched him stretch out, as best he could, on the sofa. And it was all too much. What in the hell was she doing? Her life was never going to be normal. There was never going to be a perfect time. Her parents managed to make each other a priority no matter the situation. So what if there was a threat to Storybrooke? They'd deal with that tomorrow no matter what happened tonight.

xxx

Even though they'd had an exhausting day, he was so wide awake he was sure he was never going to get to sleep. Not with Emma ten feet away in a giant bed fit for a king. And especially not after that kiss they'd shared earlier in the evening. Did she know what she did to him? He wouldn't push it tonight; she was obviously feeling out of sorts. But he also knew they couldn't go on like this for long. Something was going to give.

His thoughts were squarely centered on her, when he felt something fall softly onto his chest.

He pushed himself to a partially sitting position, brushing the item away. "What was that?"

"You tell me," Emma replied as she launched her next attack. She again hit her mark as the object floated squarely down on his head.

He untangled himself from the item that was obscuring his vision. It was fabric. Was she throwing him another blanket? He pulled it off his head. His eyes adjusted in the dark and all he could see was plaid. It looked like… Emma's pajamas? He examined the article further; sleeves, buttons, a collar. Yes, yes, he was certain it was the top of her plaid pajamas. The pajama tops she'd had on a moment ago. His breathing stopped as his mind began to whir. Now he groped on the floor to where the first item had fallen after assailing him moments earlier, also plaid, the bottoms to her pajama. He looked over to her, seeking answers, only to have something land on his shoulder, something small… something pink… something lacy.

"Why are you throwing your pajamas and a pink lacy object at me?"

"Those are my underwear." She clarified for him.

"Does that mean…"

"Yes," she said simply. "It means I'm in this big comfortable bed with absolutely no clothes on."

"Emma, what are you doing?" His voice was raw and barely above a whisper.

"Killian Hook Jones… you've just been issued a formal invitation."

"My love, if this is a jest…"

"Get over here and find out."

That's all it took. In two strides he crossed the spacious room and before she could properly prepare for his arrival, he dove on the bed and rolled onto her, his lips immediately finding hers. She squeaked when he landed on her, but it was muffled. He pressed his lips to hers for a long moment before pulling slightly away, only to immediately claim her mouth in another sweet kiss. She could feel him, his warmth, his weight, the length of him pressing down on her through the layers of bedding. And it was delicious.

The kiss became hungry, their mouths moving in unison and their tongues gently dueling. They both melted deeper into a kiss that increased in intensity every few moments. He was still clothed, she, most decidedly, was not. Her hands tangled in his hair, drawing him closer. He was propped on his left elbow while his right hand caressed the smooth skin of her arm from her elbow to her bare shoulder. Her senses were on fire and she could feel everything, every touch, every taste, every kiss, the way his perpetual scruff pricked deliciously everywhere his mouth roamed.

This was amazing, so much better than he'd dreamt. But then he remembered earlier, the last time she kissed him and he knew he had to be sure. So reluctantly, with one last, lingering kiss, he pulled away and searched her eyes, hoping against hope he would find the answer he wanted there. "Emma, are you sure?"

She was still catching her breath and couldn't find her voice, so instead of speaking she nodded her assent.

"But earlier, you said…"

"I know." She swallowed hard. "But then I was thinking about my parents. "

"And that made you want me? That's quite perverted, isn't it?"

"No." She whapped his arm lightly, but then soothed the spot by running her hand up and under the sleeve of his t-shirt, caressing his bicep. "They're always being separated and can never be sure of the future, but they don't use that as an excuse to wait, they just find each other again. So I don't want to use it as an excuse either anymore. I'm always going to be the savior, and maybe I won't get a day off, but tonight, I find myself with a sexy pirate who has proven time and again that he'll go to the ends of the earth for me and he also happens to be a pretty amazing man, and I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. We could be separated, or we could be killed, or we could be living at Regina's with five other people including my son and my ex." He grimaced at that. "So the truth is we may never have another moment alone. So even though it's only been two days since the curse was lifted, I've realized I don't have the luxury of wasting this opportunity, especially when the one thing I'm certain about is that I want you."

For several moments all that could be heard was the sound of their breathing. Finally he said, "That's quite a speech."

"See you're not the only one who can make declarations."

He swallowed hard and looked down at her with such devotion in his eyes that she thought she might melt into the sheets right there. "I need to make one more. I love you, Emma Swan. And I know you don't feel the same that I do and that's okay… maybe you will one day."

She blinked several times as the heat built behind her eyes. It was one thing to know it; it was another to hear it. But she was not a crier and she wouldn't start now. So instead she allowed a small smile to spread slowly across her face as she reached up to caress his cheek. "Yeah, I know you love me. And just for the record that true love's kiss you tried back in New York… that was never going to work."

"It wasn't?" he asked cautiously. A moment earlier he'd been brushing the hair from her eyes, now his hand stilled.

She shook her head. "I didn't remember you. David said he tried to warn you before you left. It didn't work for him either when my mother had lost her memories."

"Oh." His eyes lit as he realized what she was saying. "You're saying under other circumstances that perhaps true love's kiss might work?"

"I'm saying… it's possible. But right now I'm not interested in fairy tale kisses; I'm more interested in real world kisses." She ran her hand down his side, her deft fingers hiking up his shirt. Sliding her hand down his bare back, she felt him shiver under her touch. When she hit the waistband of his sweats, she hooked her thumb under the fabric of his new boxer briefs and tugged downward. "Killian, it's time to get naked and get in here."

Happily and quite speedily, he complied with her request. Once under the covers their bodies instantly molded together, delicious friction was created by skin sliding against skin and she was sure she'd never felt anything like it.

xxx

Emma fell back against the sheets, sweaty, spent and completely sated. Breathlessly she whispered, "That was…"

"If you say a one-time thing…" his voice was husky and held both humor and apprehension.

"Oh no." Emma shook her head as she rolled against him, one hand sliding across his abdomen as she nuzzled his neck. "That was definitely not a one-time thing. We are going to be doing a lot of that. I don't care if we have to cross the town line to do it."

"Hmm. Leaving the Enchanted Forrest before the curse continues to yield benefits. However, with your parents back in the Enchanted Forest and Henry at Regina's I'm thinking either your place or the Jolly Roger will offer ample privacy."

"That sounds nice." She kissed his neck. "But you know it's probably a pipe dream, right?"

"No." He rolled so that he was on top of her looking down. "We're not borrowing trouble. Not tonight. We're going back to Storybrooke tomorrow and I will be by your side for whatever we must face. But tonight we're having fun." Without waiting for a response he buried his face in her neck and she squirmed at the sudden and very pleasant attack.

She was definitely having fun. He had kept his promise. And that reminded her of another promise he'd made. That he would win her heart. And she thought of him, this man who loved her so very much, who would do anything for her. This man who she wanted by her side and in her bed. Her friend. Her pirate. Her partner. At that thought her heart warmed and she felt a flutter start in her chest and move through her entire body. And she knew without any doubt he had succeeded.

Once he started trailing kisses down her neck and along her collar bone she abruptly brought her hands to his face and stilled his movements. He shifted back up and looked inquiringly down at her.

She leaned up and brought her lips to his ear and whispered. "You did it."

Her hot breath sent shivers through him, but he managed to whisper back, "Did what?"

"My heart." She kissed the spot right below his ear before she continued. "It's yours."

He leaned back quickly in order to search her eyes. Hope radiated from every cell in his body.

She answered the unspoken question she saw in his eyes. With one hand she reached up to caress his cheek. "I love you."

"Really?" His hair was sticking straight up and between his eager tone, hopeful expression and disheveled appearance he had never looked more adorable. Her dastardly pirate was downright cute.

She smiled up at him; a big, happy smile that he'd never seen before. Now she brought her other hand to his cheek, so she was caressing both sides of his face. "Yes. I'm as surprised as you are."

At that he emitted a belly laugh that was deep and satisfying. "You're mistaken. I'm not surprised you love me." He paused a moment to revel in the words he'd just spoken, before continuing, "I'm only surprised you're admitting it."

Once again she whapped him playfully on the shoulder, but then took him by surprise by hooking her leg around his and flipping them over so he was lying flat on his back and she was balanced over him. She looked down at him with smiling eyes. "Lie. You were seriously concerned that true love's kiss didn't work in New York."

"A little," he finally admitted with a grimace.

She looked down into his eyes "Seriously, I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm willing to give this a try if you are."

"My love, I am entirely at your disposal," he said as he ran his hand along her side.

That settled she leaned down as if you kiss him, but stopped short. There was one last thing. Leaning back so she could see his eyes, she said, "At some point you're going to tell me more about the last year and much more about the 'any means necessary' you used to find me."

"As you wish." And with that he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers. This kiss was different; it was slow, purposeful, almost reverent. Emma loved him. It had taken a year to get back to her and many obstacles, but only two and a half days to win her heart. Back in New York he hadn't dared dream of such a wonderful resolution.

She had felt as he did.

It'd just been necessary to remind her.

The End.


End file.
